#help I’m stuck on a plane for the third time this week and this time I have good wifi!!

[lets-go-hurt-someone]

I don’t really want Durge to tell Astarion, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Astarion doesn’t really want to be protected. He doesn’t want to need protection. Learning that it’s okay to be vulnerable is all well and good, but I want Durge to be able to tell Astarion, “We are going to ruin your enemies together.”

I want a Durge who learns about Cazador, and decides he’s not spouting platitudes about “I’m gonna keep you safe.” Fuck no. He’s penning a detailed epic poem about how they’re going to storm Szarr Palace together and he’s going to watch as Astarion peels every inch of skin off of Cazador’s screaming skeleton so Durge can upholster the throne from which they will rule the world. He’s spooning Astarion back to sleep after a nightmare while whispering sweet nothings about how Astarion is finally going to drink Cazador’s blood from Durge’s lips after he’s licked it off Astarion’s knife.

And maybe that’s more evil Durge/Ascended coded, but even as a spawn — or maybe especially as a spawn — I think Astarion deserves more than to just rely on someone else for protection for the rest of his life. No one can really promise anyone protection with any kind of certainty anyway. He doesn’t need a protector, he needs a partner. And I like to think that Durge can promise him that.

So forget “I’ll protect you” and give me “If burning the world to the ground is what keeps you safe, I’ll do everything in my power to help you do it” instead.

[lumosinlove]

Day Two of @oknutzy-week-2024 !!

Write Me In

Finn O’Hara, the lead singer of Night Swimming, the band that tops charts year after year, has an interview set with music’s top writer, Leo Knut. The whole thing will take place over one week at the locations and times of Finn’s choosing. Leo’s not freaking out. He definitely hasn’t had a crush on Finn since he was sixteen. Logan Tremblay, the band’s drummer, definitely had nothing to do with Leo realizing he liked boys.

Leo’s to go see the concert and then do the first part of the interview after the show. Only, when he’s shown back to Finn’s dressing room for the first interview, Leo definitely opens the door at the wrong moment. Because there is Finn O’Hara, heartthrob to people everywhere, kissing his drummer, Logan Tremblay.

Leo had gone through too many outfits. His bedroom floor back at his apartment was a mess of his clothes. The problem was that he didn’t know where they were going. Where would Finn O’Hara want his interview done? He was in the middle of a massive world tour so they could end up anywhere from his dressing room to his private jet. That had happened to Leo before. He’d gotten right on the plane with the star and then be left at their destination to get himself home.

They could go to one of New York City’s number one restaurants—Paps were always catching Finn at Nobu and Via Carota—or it could be one of the apartments he kept. It could be a damn night club for all Leo knew. You didn’t wear the same clothes to Via Carota as a night club. Well. Some people did, he guessed.

Finally, and only cut off by the prospect of being late, Leo stepped out of his building’s elevator in slim fitted slacks and a white button-down, open at the collar. If he needed to dance, he’d undo a few buttons and dance. Otherwise, his sleeves were cuffed just below his elbows and his blond curls were cooperating perfectly. At least he had that going for him. The other variable had been his bag. Usually he carried his leather cross-body with his laptop and notebook. He didn’t want his laptop at a club—or a restaurant, to be honest. He’d settled on folding his sunglasses into his shirt and slipping a pocket-sized notebook into his trousers along with his phone.

The only thing he knew for certain was that he was going to get to see the concert first. And he was being cool about it. Completely professional.

Not thinking about the posters he’d had on his bedroom wall when he was sixteen. He wasn’t. His mom had sent him the picture of him grinning like a lunatic at Finn O’Hara’s first world tour. He wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all.

From his back pocket, his phone began to buzz. His assistant, Cassie.

“Hey, any chance you know where the hell I’m going?” he asked.

“Ten bucks you cry.”

Leo closed his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“Or go completely speechless.”

“I am an adult.”

“You cry when we pass those pet stores with puppies in the window.”

“I am a compassionate adult, Cas. Now where—”

“You’re going to the show!”

“I mean after,” Leo asked. “Any word from Finn—from O’Hara’s team? Where are we doing this thing?”

“How many outfits did you try on?”

Leo hung up.

The venue was much what he expected. Finn had five albums out with a much anticipated sixth one coming sometime this year. The June night was cool as Leo fell into the masses headed to Metlife Stadium. His magazine had said they’d send a car, but Leo opted for the trains. Maybe they were a pain, but so was traffic. And besides, this way, Leo would get to see the fans. Finn’s real fame had come with his second album, titled Bring The Stars, and he’d only gotten bigger with his third, Red&Gold, so there were many a star-studded dresses and golden, shimmering outfits. Leo stuck out sorely in his black and white. He texted Cassie.

Maybe I should have been more festive.

She replied immediately. I’ve seen your heartthrob O’Hara shirt. An emoji that had its tongue sticking out quickly followed.

Not helpful.

He talked to a few of the fans. One girl who had drawn gold stars all over her body. A boy wore a shirt that read I’M THE STARS, TAKE ME over a strong chest. It was a rather touching lyric in Finn’s song, but on the shirt it looked like a pick-up line and made Leo smile and write it down.

At the venue, he was lead straight to the VIP tent with his press pass, and was handed about four lanyards that would keep him there, allow him to go between the viewing tent and the VIP bar, and another that would later let him backstage. The woman who gave them to him promised to fetch him sometime after the encore. Then he was presented with a Finn&Tonic.

“Oh, I’m working.”

The woman smiled. “For the next two hours, you’re watching a concert.”

True enough, Leo thought. His inner teenager was whirling at the very manufactured idea that Finn had created this drink for him. He was sure anyone over twenty-one in the stadium was feeling the same.

“I tried to get Finnarita to happen, but no-go.”

Leo turned towards the voice at his shoulder and froze. He stared. He opened his mouth. He thought about speaking. The red hair, the brown eyes. It looked—well, almost how Leo imagined. Then again, he’d never seen Finn up close before. God, he was so much sturdier than his posters made him out to be. His chest and arms were pushing out against his t-shirt. Leo needed to not be looking at his chest. He should say hello. He should say something.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted out. He looked towards the stage where the opening act had just come on.

There was a laugh from beside him and when Leo looked back over, a hand was being extended. Without thinking, Leo took it.

“I’m watching the show.” The winning smile turned secretive. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m just the brother. Alex.”

Oh. Of course. That’s what was off.

“Oh,” Leo said. “Oh my God.”

Alex laughed harder. He shrugged.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—” Leo let out a laugh because something about Alex made it feel like he could. “You probably get that all the time.”

“People think we’re twins. Always have. I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m Leo.” After a beat, Leo did what he hated to do. “And I am under an obligation to tell you right now that you’re speaking to press.”

Alex nodded. He was probably thinking up some excuse to walk away. Whatever. Leo was used to that. No one wanted a random quote ending up in the wrong place.

“I know who you are,” Alex said instead. “I loved your piece on poetry in pop.”

Leo only just managed to swallow a sip of his drink around his surprise. “Oh? Thank you. It was a fun one. Listen, I still feel bad about nearly freaking out on you.”

“Ha, don’t worry. I mean, it’s a good thing you’re a fan—you are, I take it?”

“Yes. I mean, yes.”

“Well.” Alex nodded to his nearly empty drink then to the VIP bar. “You can join me for a drink later to make up for it.”

“Sure, of course.” The words came out of his mouth, but as Alex grinned and turned towards the bar, all of the heat rushed to Leo’s face.

He wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure he was being hit on by Finn O’Hara’s big brother. Either that, or scoped out to make sure he was worthy of writing the story. Or he was being nice?

Leo gave up on thinking and watched Alex’s shoulders walk away.

There was a little menu in the tent and Leo glanced at it, trying to picture Alex O’Hara buying him a drink—and kissing him. The list was funny. Album themes. Song titles. Maybe he’d let Alex buy him a Rum & Gold.

Then, it was all Finn. He came out onto stage like something from one of Leo’s fantasies. He wore dark jeans and a green tank top that read LUCKY ME—a hit single off of the second album. Leo had died for that song in high school…He still did.

I watch you fill your cup with sugar,

Waitress asks 'what will it be?’ 

In this world of ‘order up!’ 

Babe, you let me rest ease-y

I just say lucky me

I just say lucky me

“You know, I grew up here.” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium after that song—it was quite a contrast. Lucky Me got more and more sexy with every verse. The diner waitress and I watch you fill your cup with sugar soon turned into Let me fill you up with sugar, let me drown in sweet and sweat. Leo wanted to know who in Finn’s life took their coffee sickly sweet.

“It’s the best city in the world,” Finn was saying. “Oh, and hey, my big brother’s here tonight! Everyone say Hiii, Alex-aaaa-nder!”

Alex got a thunderous hello and Finn—Finn was looking right at the VIP tent. Right at Alex. Who was standing right next to Leo again.

For a second, Leo swore Finn was looking at him. He felt those brown eyes, and when Finn smiled, lighting up every screen in the place, Leo felt that, too. He started to sweat, to blush. He was no better than anyone else in this crowd.

He swore, he swore, Finn was still looking at him when he raised his microphone to his mouth and said. “So many beautiful people here tonight…” Then he raised a hand. “You guys ready?”

He let them cheer, he tilted his head back and basked in it, the strong lines of his throat and jaw on complete display.

In a low, deadly rasp, Finn said, “Let me hear you, Lo.”

When he dropped his hand in a powerful fist, the drums kicked to life behind him.

Lo. It was only then that Leo managed to tear his eyes away from Finn. Three beats answered Finn’s words and the spotlight swung to Logan behind his kit.

Leo was going to die. He’d vastly overestimated his ability to keep his focus while doing this assignment. How was he supposed to remember his own name, much less how to write, when Logan Tremblay was sat there sweating through a clinging gray t-shirt, his brown hair curling up around a backwards black hat. Logan started up a beat that Leo would recognize anywhere. Their song I See Red had come out last year and Leo had been most intrigued because it was the first time Logan had sung alone on parts of a song. Although Finn sang most of it, Leo had played it over and over again for the parts that Logan sang. His voice was slightly deeper than Finn’s, the vowels influenced by his French-Canadian accent.Then there was the part when, like in Lucky Me, they traded beats and lyrics. The stadium went mad, though, when Logan began to sing his verse. Nothing but him and his drums.

I see red in my dreams.

Pressed against me,

Hard and gently,

Making me see.

Meant to be.

Two beats.

I see Red breaking free.

Looking at me

Breathing, ready,

No make believe.

Meant to be.

He went right into the bridge and the way he sang it—it was like Leo had never listened to the song at all until this moment. The way his body moved as he pounded the drums. Finn joined in, harmonizing and grinning wildly. The crowd had no care for the melody—they screamed the lyrics with Logan and the lights flashed every time his sticks hit his drums.

Red in my dreams getting all over me,

Sweat in my eyes please say you’ll never leave,

I knew once I woke I’d take it all back

So I never woke and we stayed like that.

I am not asleep and you are not a dream,

And my Red looks good in the sunlight gleam,

Not going back to sleep, or how it was.

Cover me in Red for forever cause

I see Red cross the street

Waving to me,

Wearing blue jeans,

Such a day dream.

Meant to be.

Finn looked flushed when he raised his arms to the crowd.

The crowd lost it—and continued to do so every time Finn and Logan did a similar call-and-answer. Finn’s voice and Logan’s drums. It was like a heart. Its beat and breath. Leo found himself grinning all through their song Green Eyes, rumored to be about a girl Finn spent a night with on tour in France. With each of Finn’s verses, Logan’s drums answered him with as many beats. No, you don’t—say much—but I read—your touch. Now Finn was standing behind Logan as Logan played, leaning in to share his microphone. You fall—I sigh—Oh my—green eyes.

It was hot. It was more than hot, it was sensual. Personal. The microphone caught Logan’s laugh and the crowd lost it all over again. A group of girls just in front of the VIP tent were sobbing—Leo was fairly sure they had been the entire time. He started to laugh a little, even if it was sweet how they held each other through the swaying rhythm of Your Loss and Thin Ice.

Leo knew he had been waiting for his favorite song. He’d been hoping each time a new one began that this would be it. It was softer, and he thought maybe he’d get to hear a bit more of Finn’s voice alone above all the instruments.

What actually happen was so much better. Finn sat down at the piano and began to play—alone.

“How are we all doing? Enjoying ourselves?” Finn grinned when the crowd roared for him. “Okay, good. Good, good. Um. This next one I’m gonna play a little piano, how’s that?”

Leo fought the urge to cover his giddy smile.

“Fantastic. You guys are great, I gotta tell you. But I’d expect nothing less from my favorite city… So, I think there are a lot of lovers of this song out there,” Finn said. “Me included. I actually didn’t expect everyone to love it so much because I know it’s a little different. Little sadder than our usual stuff. I wrote this one alone. Haven’t written anything alone since, but this one I did. I think it’s about making choices. It’s about wanting something so bad…” He paused, playing a few gorgeous soft chords, and Leo knew. This was his song. “That you hold on, even to the tiniest sliver.”

As raptured by Finn as Leo was, a movement on the stage caught his eye. Logan was getting up from behind his kit and leaving the stage. Leo frowned, watching his broad shoulders disappear. Maybe he was getting water because Finn played this one solo. Finn, on the stadium monitors, seemed to be watching, too.

“It’s a song about hope, really,” Finn said. “This is Rooftop.”

Part of Leo wanted to close his eyes, as he always did while listening. When Finn began to sing, he was a thousand places at once. Driving back home in New Orleans and singing it at the top of his lungs. Laying in his bed in the dark, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Swaying with Cassie at some party at the end of the night.

He didn’t close his eyes. He was here. The closest he’d ever been to Finn O’Hara in his life. He could see his famous freckles. Those gorgeous brown eyes—and the sorrow in them just now.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I am gone, gone, lost the fight

Against hoping you’d want me.

It feels wrong, wrong, sitting here

Cause this is your place too.

You are gone, gone, lost the fight

But you know what is true.

I know you do.

Finn let the crowd sing the second I know you do back to him before he hit a gorgeous, thrumming piano chord and sang the chorus in a way that made Leo’s throat close up—as it always did.

I will lose my balance, I will

I will choose the highest place

Sit where only wind can race

Faster than your heart.

I will lose my courage, I will

I will fall and see your face

Reach out just enough to trace

All our broken parts.

And the bridge. God, the bridge. Sung in this quick, chopped low voice that Leo leaned into like he was thirsty. The crowd sang along so loud Leo felt it in his chest.

Bet the blood’s there still

Lingering on that window sill

But what no one sees

Are the ruins left of me.

Cause I’m still up there

My dreams smoking in the air.

Find the highest part

That’s the place we start.

And the blood’s still fresh…

The beautiful, beautiful pause. He was magnificent with the piano. The screens showed a shot of his hands, pale, strong wrists, delicate fingers. Leo got swept up by the key change, slowing it down, Finn’s voice raising, strong, the words drawn out, and so, so desperate for—for the memory, Leo thought, hand pressed against his chest. This song had always felt like a memory.

I wish you best

But I need you to know

That I will not rest

Until you tell me to go-oh

I’ve still got one hand

Locked on the ledge

Think I will hold on

Until you throw-oh

Me

Down

To my

Death.

Finn’s mouth rested against the microphone. His eyes were closed. The summer wind brushed his hair back from his forehead and—and Leo saw the tear track on his cheek. His voice was so, so soft for the final verse.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I hold on, on in the fight

Of hoping you’ll want me.

Leo was in a daze when the set ended and he was whisked away by two people with headsets and backstage badges on. He fumbled to show his own passes to the three rounds of security. To his surprise, what he thought of as backstage was actually under the stage. He was lead through a curtain beneath the front part of the stage and through what resembled scaffolding. It was also a maze. He tried to keep track of where he was, but that plan went out the window in a second. There was no way he’d make it anywhere on his own if he had to. Soon enough, the low ceilings and metal poles disappeared and he was in the actual rooms of the stadium. More endless hallways, but a bit less of feeling like the whole thing could collapse on his head.

“Here we are, Mr. Knut,” said one of his companions. They’d arrived at a door that had a plastic sheet on it reading O’HARA.

Leo didn’t hear much of what was said after that. O’Hara. Leo saw flashes of all the posters, all the interviews, all those Instagram lives Finn used to do from the apartment he shared with Logan. He missed those videos. Finn in the kitchen talking about the new music he was working on, Logan wandering by shirtless behind him. It almost made one feel like they were in the room—which had probably been the point.

When he looked up again, the two headsets were walking away.

“Wait! Wait, should I knock or—”

But the world had already moved on in the post-show chaos and Leo was left standing there. He was more than surprised to find himself alone. He’d thought, being a journalist and all, they’d watch him like a hawk. Most musicians wanted to control what he saw. Apparently not Night Swimming.

Leo stepped closer to the sign, to the door, listening. He didn’t hear anything behind it. Not talking—maybe music, but it was hard to tell where that was coming from. Hesitantly, Leo knocked.

The door fell open a few inches. The latch must not have been done properly. Leo’s eyes raised in surprise. Now he could hear something—it was soft beneath the shouts and passing carts outside. But someone was inside.

Leo knocked again, gently, not wanting to startle, and took a half-step inside. He was expected, surely. Finn had been told?

Any words he might have had died in his throat.

Finn was inside. It was a warm space, soft music playing. A dressing table, a mini fridge, a guitar propped up against the sofa, an electric kettle. And Finn.

Finn who had Logan pressed up against the wall beside the mirror, its light warming their skin, kissing him. Kissing Logan in the same way he sang—with everything. Logan looked like Finn was all that was holding him up. He was still in the gray t-shirt, but his hat was gone—knocked to the floor by their feet. His dark curls were wild. Finn’s pale hands had hitched up his shirt and they made a stark contrast against Logan’s tan muscles. Logan made a soft sound into Finn’s mouth, Leo saw him bite at Finn’s lip and pull, and then Finn was dragging his lips down to Logan’s neck.

Maybe Leo made a sound himself, he didn’t know, but Logan’s eyes flashed open and met Leo’s.

Green. Green green green and then—

Interest. The look in them was so intense that Leo couldn’t move. He couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away, couldn’t shut the door. Logan’s hand fisted Finn’s read hair and he—he pulled Finn off of his neck to kiss him again—eyes on Leo. He tapped Finn’s hip and Finn stopped. Leo heard him ask, what? Logan nodded his head in Leo’s direction.

Suddenly, brown eyes were on him, too. Finn’s eyes.

“Oh,” Finn said. His lips were pink and slick from Logan’s. Logan’s strong hand was still knotted in his hair.

“Excuse me,” Leo choked out. Finally, he forced his eyes down. Kissing, his mind chanted. FinnandLoganFinnandLogan. “I’m—I’m so sorry, I was told—”

“No, no, no,” Finn said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Finn looked around for a moment, a little dazed, and then spotted his shirt. He pulled it on backwards, cursed, and righted it. Damn right lucky you, Leo thought, glancing at Logan’s mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m—so sorry, I’m here for…um.”

“Leo Knut,” Finn said. He strode forward and offered Leo a hand. If he was at all nervous about what Leo had just caught him and Logan doing, he didn’t show it. “I know, I’ve been looking forward to your interview. My brother and I, we talk about your work all the time.”

Leo was going to pass out. “Okay. I mean thank you.”

Finn smiled a little. He wiped his mouth. Leo tried to keep his eyes from following the motion.

“Um.” Leo said. “The show was fantastic.”

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“You’ve seen us before,” Logan said—and not like a question.

“Yeah,” Leo replied. “This is my third time. I’ve been a fan for a while. Since the beginning, really.” Stop talking. “So. So, my office said that we would be—well, I’m here for…”

“Right,” Finn said. “Of course. I think we’re doing an hour now, right?” When Leo nodded, he gestured to the couch. “Please, sit. Can we get you anything?”

Leo blinked. “Oh. Um. Water?”

“Let’s order food,” Logan said, collapsing on the couch. “I’m fucking starving.” He looks at Leo. “Or am I supposed to get out for this Finn O’Hara interview?”

“No,” Finn said, then looked at Leo. “I’d like him to stay.”

“That’s completely fine,” Leo said. “Better, even.” That sounded weird. “I mean, I’d love to hear both of your—of what you have to say.”

Leo stumbled through his questions. He fumbled his words, his phrasing. He had no direction, no path, he couldn’t remember all the angles he’d planned to try until he found this story.

The worse part was, he knew they could tell. Logan’s stormy eyes tracked his missteps like a shark. He was a quiet one. Leo had known that. He was like that in interviews. It bordered on rude, honestly, but Leo knew he had a sweet side. He’d seen videos of Logan spending a solid thirty minutes talking to fans through fences, outside of their hotels. Talking, taking photos, signing autographs, recording video messages for friends. So, Leo withstood the glare. He had, after all, walked in on him kissing Finn. The world certainly didn’t know about that.

By the time the hour was up, Leo had nothing but an empty notebook and a headache. 

“We don’t have a show tomorrow,” Finn said. “Why don’t you come around to the apartment? Lo and I sleep late, but mid-day?” Finn smiled at him, friendly and sweet.

Lo and I. Was this Finn telling him something? Were they more than roommates? Not that it was any of Leo’s business, not that it had anything to do with the article, it was only…Leo tried to imagine himself at seventeen, knowing that Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay shared the part of himself that he was most unsure about. God, what that would have done for him.

“That sounds wonderful,” Leo said. “Thank you. Should we say noon?”

“Two,” Logan said. “We sleep late.”

Leo looked back to Logan. No smile. Studying. That same looked Leo had received during the kiss.

“Two, then,” Leo said.

If there was one thing he hadn’t expected from tonight, it was not being able to get out of that room fast enough.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[callmewrinkles3]

Long Live - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An early morning phone call, a failed concussion exam, and an Instagram post lead to just one thing. A statement from Red Bull Racing released the Thursday morning before Silverstone. Oracle Red Bull Racing regret that Max Verstappen has failed his concussion assessment following his crash at the Red Bull Ring last week. Max is doing well, but as per the medical advice he will not drive in the event this weekend. In his place Third Driver Daniel Ricciardo will drive the RB19 for this weekend.

Warnings: Mentions of past crashes, Blake and Em scheming, mentions of cheating (not our loves!)

Words: 8.6k

A/N: Happy Danny Ric Race Week! This has been planned for…yeah so long. So, so long. Silverstone has been where so much of our stuff hinged and we’re so excited to get to share at last. Let us know what you think.

July 2023

Em glared at her suitcase. Dan’s was neatly packed - not that he needed much, his outfit for the weekend was jeans and Red Bull merch. But she needed a week and a bit of clothes for their time in Northamptonshire, plus changes. And with a limited supply thanks to the now prominent bump she was miserable about it. But they had to leave in the next few minutes or they might be late getting to Silverstone.

“You packed?” Dan asked, watching her shake her head. “Does the new stuff help?”

“Yeah. It feels ok.” The box had been sitting at reception waiting for them when they got back from the whistle stop trip to Perth, a gift from Lewis when he found out about her pregnancy. She’d mentioned once or twice that she hated the feel of some fabrics, and the clothes were soft and stretchy, comfortable for her and the baby. She was wearing one of them now, a lilac empire waist dress with black leggings that helped support her belly.

“Gimme a sec.” His phone started ringing almost too loudly for seven fifteen, Em zipping the case but leaving it for Dan to lift. Charlie had texted a photo of the brunch she and Blake had gone for that morning. He wasn’t back until the tyre test, and she missed having him there.

“Emmy?” Dan sounded dazed as he came into the room.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I’m driving this weekend. I…I’m in the car this weekend. Max didn’t pass concussion protocol, the new rules are if you don’t pass it before Thursday morning you don’t pass for the weekend. I’m in his car. Fuck. I’m driving.”

He lifted her with a grin, spinning her around and holding as tightly as he could before Em kissed her husband, separating with a grin.

“You’re driving the RB19? For the race?”

“Yeah.”

“We need to tell everyone.”

It was a frantic phone call to Blake as they piled into the car, Dan putting the bags in the boot. The first two attempts went unanswered, but finally the third was answered.

“Dan I swear to God I used to leave you and Em alone when you were-“

“Blake it’s Em. I’m using his phone.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. What’s up Timmy?”

“You and Charlie need to get on a plane. Dan’s driving this weekend. Max is out after the crash last week, he’s in.”

They’d watched the race the previous weekend from Perth, Checo crashing into Max at turn three and pushing them both off track. The two cars had been pushed into the barrier, Max losing consciousness for a moment. Em had watched terrified until she heard him over the radio, Dan gripping her hand tightly. It could have been so much worse, especially on a weekend already filled with tragedy.

“Fuck. Seriously? What time is it what can we get?” Blake’s voice came through the speakers in the car as Em was already searching flights. She turned the tablet to Dan, pointing at the direct Qantas one and the five tickets she had ready to go.

“I’m booking you on the Qantas direct, you get in here at five tomorrow morning. Give Callum a call, tell him to come too. I’ve business for Joe and Grace, the three of you are stuck in economy I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter, we’ll get there. Somehow. You sure about Cal?” It was Charlie speaking and Em smiled.

“Positive. He’ll love it, we’ve got the passes. He can watch the race from the garage.”

“Ok. I’m gonna get packed and call Cal. Want me to pick up your parents?”

“They’ll probably pick you up, you’re at Charlies?” The organisation decided, Charlie promised to text when the five of them were at the airport. While Dan drove Em got on the phone with Qantas, putting on her charm and using her surname liberally so she could try get seats organised. It wasn’t much, but Charlie and Blake had a row to themselves and Callum had extra leg room so it was a little more comfortable.

The last thing she could do before relaxing for the drive was stare at her instagram account. The original plan was she’d wait at the hotel for the night so the pregnancy news could die down. But now she had to be there in just two hours. The post was written, ready to go, the carefully staged photos of their vans and the baby ones Dan had bought the day after they found out she was pregnant but had hidden until things were safe. The tiny little scan photo showing their bean. This was real.

“Ready for the world to know you knocked me up?” It was crude and blunt and made Dan laugh so it was worth it, Em grinning as his laughter filled the car.

“Ready for the world to know you’re stuck with me forever?”

“Feels right.”

She hit post, waiting for the chaos. Red Bull were announcing that Max was out at 9.30, so hopefully that would start to overshadow everything. Carefully she read the caption again and smiled at it. Baby Ric. Half Brit, half Aussie, already the coolest kid in the world. We really can’t wait to meet you, sunshine.

This was a good thing. Everyone who needed to know was aware that she was announcing it this weekend. Limited comments made it easy, the people she’d met mostly through Dan commenting congratulations publicly. She could breathe. The world was always going to find out about the baby but this made being pregnant real to her. It was actually happening.

They were nearly to the track when Dan’s phone rang again, Em hitting answer on the car screen.

“Hey Grace, Dan’s driving. We’re almost there.”

“Emmy, how’re you feeling? We’re waiting at the gate, the plane’s here and we should be on soon.”

“I’m good. News about the baby is officially out now.”

“How do you feel?”

“Excited. I think. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Fly safe, tell everyone I love them.”

The roads around the track were closed to the public, Dan getting through when he showed his paddock pass and people recognised him. Finally they were in the car park, pulling into the Red Bull Driver spot. This was real.

“You ready for this?” Em asked, watching as her husband ran his fingers through his hair, the thick gold band glinting in the sun.

“Yeah. I think I am. I want this. I want to be there, I want to drive well. I want to be on that podium again. Do you think I can do it?” It was the most honest he’d been about driving, the most open he’d been apart from nights in bed where only the dark surrounded them.

“Yes. I know you can do this. This is the track where you had your first race, where you did your first test. You can do this, Danny. I believe in you.” His smile lit up at her words as he put his hand on her belly, leaning down to press a kiss to it.

“And for this little one. Can’t embarrass her at the first race people know about her.”

“I thought we agreed it was they until we know?”

“She’s a girl. I know it. Because Lulu isn’t going to make us argue over a boys name, are you sweetheart?” It was quiet for a moment before Dan squeezed her fingers. “Time to face the media.”

“Let’s go.”

The first person in a Red Bull shirt they spotted was Simon, a smile spreading across Em’s face as she saw him. He was sticking to hospitality for most of the weekend, but agreed to help out if needed. It didn’t take long for them to be at the paddock gates, Em staring at them with trepidation.

“Good luck. Lewis went in about five minutes ago with Roscoe, that might have pulled some photogs away. People are delighted for you, there’s gonna be good wishes.”

She nodded at Simon before stepping through the gate, scanning her pass and waiting for Dan. It felt so different to a usual race weekend with him. There was no Michael around, no Blake yet, no bags being carried with helmets or gear. That was all coming down, it’d be there. Right now they needed to make it to Red Bull. She’d sit in hospitality or walk down to Aston to say hi to Lawrence, depending on what was going on. It was fine.

“Daniel! Emma! Congratulations! How does it feel to be driving?” The news had filtered out and questions were being thrown around but Dan just smiled and waved as they made it through the paddock. Different kids and fans came up with hats and merch to sign and he signed it all, Em standing there and fiddling with the FEA bracelet that she rarely took off. A couple of parents made small talk with her while the kids got photos with Dan, running off grinning. But finally they were at the Energy Station.

The moment they arrived in there was rapturous applause, a banner across the seating area with “IT’S A RICCIARDO” and a stork on it. Em blushed and grinned while Dan put an arm around her waist to hold her close as he nodded.

“Thanks guys, thanks. Much appreciated. Any idea where I’m supposed to go?”

“Engineering in five.” Christian stepped up as most of the team went back to where they were supposed to be. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I know I already said it, but I mean it. You deserve some happiness. Em if you want to stay here feel free, or if you want to go up to Dan’s driver room you can. Is Blake around?”

“On his way back from Perth.” Em pulled a notebook from her handbag, flipping it open with practiced ease. “I’m back to work at least until he’s here, he wasn’t going to come back until testing. What do you need?”

“Just wanted to check timings. I got an email from him for four paddock passes, is that right? Charlie Clarke, Callum Clarke, and Dan’s parents?”

“Yeah. Blake’s partner, her brother, and my in laws. Are they ok?”

“Of course, yeah. You know that. Just wanted to be sure, they’ll be ready for tomorrow. We’ve an engineering briefing, Dan’s in the TV pen. I was going to send someone from PR with him, if you want to put a Red Bull shirt on you can follow him recording Em if you like. Whatever suits. Here’s the list of interviewers”

“Thanks Christian. Give me an hour?”

“Of course. See you in a couple Dan.”

She kissed her husband as chastely as they ever could, smiling at him.

“You know this car inside out. You know it as well as you know me. You know how it behaves. They would be putting Yuki in it and putting you in the Alpha Tauri if they had any doubts about you. You can do this, Baby.” Dan smiled and squeezed her hand before he left.

She sat in the hospitality with tea in front of her, her tablet open tracking the flight from Perth as she drank her tea and ran down the list of interviewers. It’d be easy, and her bump was still small enough that a large tee would be wearable. A woman sat beside her and she smiled.

“Em? Right? I’m Carola.” Em smiled at the other woman, switching off the screen.

“Nice to meet you. You’re Checo’s wife? It’s so lovely to meet you, I’ve seen you at a couple of races.”

“You too. Congratulations. This is your first?”

“It’s our first baby, yeah.” It didn’t hurt as much to say that anymore. Admitting it was the their first baby was true.

“It’s pretty great. This is our fourth, I’m due in October.”

They chatted for a few moments, Dan returning a few minutes later with a shirt for her.

“Vicky said she’d do it with me, but if you want to feel free. Wanna do it?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Dan took her hand to help her up. “We’ll talk later? It’s lovely to meet you Carola, but work calls.”

“Oh?” She seemed confused and Em smiled.

“My day job is his assistant. And his manager’s, but Blake isn’t here today. Time to get going!”

She followed Dan to the pen, smiling and staying out of the cameras as he answered the questions. It was mostly about the car and getting into it, but Ted at Sky couldn’t resist it.

“And your wife is at the track with you today, how does it feel to be able to tell everyone you’re having a baby?”

“Well Em is doing the hard work! But yeah, we’re excited. Its been a really, really good week for us.”

“That’s great. Congratulations to both of you.”

Em ended up back in hospitality while Dan was doing more work, but this time making phone calls left, right, and centre. Every hotel had a call in if they had a spare room, and she finally managed to get a caravan delivered to beside where Dan’s motorhome was. They could put Grace and Joe in the motorhome, Callum on the motorhome couch, and the other four would fit in the caravan. It was tight but could do it. Carola sat beside her as she ended the final call.

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Dan’s parents are flying in from Perth, so getting a caravan for them. How’re you? Are the kids here?”

“No they’re at home. How long have you worked with Daniel?” She was quiet as she spoke, younger than Em.

“Nearly four years? Japan 2019 was my first official race, but we were friends and together for years before that. I was complaining about work, Blake needed an assistant, so here I am.”

“He wanted you to travel?”

“Definitely. Being apart hurt. We’re working out how next year will go if he gets a seat, it’s gonna be toughs with a baby. But it’s worth it.”

“You’ll travel with the baby?”

“Definitely. Dan wants to be hands on and around for everything. We’ll make it work.”

“Oh. Well, this is my first time at Silverstone. Can you tell me about it?”

They chatted until Checo came over and saw them talking, speaking to his wife in Spanish before Carola said goodbye and they went to their own motorhome. Dan was a bit longer, coming back and giving her a kiss.

“Have fun?”

“I have a caravan beside your motorhome, and I had a really good chat with Carola. She’s lovely.”

“Checo’s wife?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet.”

The night was filled with nerves for both of them, different to any other race that Dan had done. Nights before fp1 before were easier. He knew the car. This time it was a car he’d never driven in real life before, but she was determined to be positive. He deserved at least that.

The news that the flight had landed woke them up, Blake promising to make their way up after they showered and ate. It’d be fine, they’d arrive in time for fp2 so she could relax then.

The yells for Dan as they walked into the paddock that morning were overwhelming. There was fans wearing ancient Aston Martin Red Bull 3 hats to make them grin, Em following her husband and holding his hand the entire way through.

Usually she’d be working away but Dan had told her to enjoy it. So she was, sitting in the garage with headphones on, watching as GP gave Dan some last minute encouragement. There he was in his race suit, helmet under his arm as he came across.

“Go fast and be safe.” He grinned as she spoke, kissing her quickly.

“I can do this, right?”

“Of course you can. I’m gonna be right here when you come back.”

She stayed in that spot for the full sixty minutes, watching as they got him used to the car. He wasn’t setting the timing screen alight, but he was firmly in the top ten. And in a sick delight that she’d never admit he was above the McLarens. She’d had to keep her mouth shut around Brown at all times, beating Lando and Oscar gave her a joy.

Instead of hospitality for lunch she went over to Mercedes while Dan was in meetings. Susie had promised a chat, and the two women sat in the sunlight with Roscoe sitting on the bench beside them. Em ate her wrap while petting the dog, promising to stay there for a few minutes while Susie ran back in. Now that she was officially the enemy she couldn’t go in like before, but being with someone was fine.

“Emmy!” She turned and saw Grace a little bit away, her mother in law wrapping her in a hug. Em relaxed against her, nodding at everyone else.

“Hey, it’s so good to see you all. Blake, Dan’s in engineering meetings. P6 in practice, Checo was P1. They seem happy so far.” Blake nodded and she watched him kiss Charlie before jogging towards the Red Bull Energy Station. “Welcome to Silverstone. I’m just waiting for Susie to come back and take Roscoe, then I’ll show you around.”

“Em. That’s not…is it?” Callum asked, Em smiling.

“Want to pet Lewis’ dog? He’s so sweet.”

The way Callum lit up petting the dog was great, and it wasn’t long until Susie was back with his lead to take Roscoe inside with a wave. Em led everyone else back to the Energy Station and found a table for them all.

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze, but we’ve made it work. Grace, Joe, you’ve got Dan’s motorhome-“

“But he needs his-“

“It’s Dan. Do you think he’d be ok if you weren’t being looked after? You’re in there. I managed to get a two bed caravan brought in. It’s tight, but Charlie, you and Blake have one room. Dan and I are in the other. Sorry Cal, you’re stuck on the couch.”

“That’s fine. Thanks, Em. Seriously. I never thought I’d be here.”

“Enjoy every minute of it. You can watch from the garage if you like, or I got you a grandstand ticket too. Whatever you want.”

“You’re amazing.” He reached around her shoulder for a hug, Em giving him one before taking a deep breath.

“I’m just really glad you’re all here. It’s been a whirlwind.”

“How’s the baby?”

“They’re fine. We’re good. Just tired. It’s gonna be a week with everything. But it’s ok.” Dan came by a few moments later with his race suit tied around his hips.

“Navy suits you,” Joe told him and Em could see the pride on her in-laws faces at their son. Dan put his hand on her stomach for a moment as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Good to see you. We can get dinner later? I’ve been in meetings all day when I’m not in the car, GP reckons they can let me go an hour or so after practice if nothing weird comes up. But practice in ten. Cal, you coming into the garage for it?”

“What?”

“C’mon.” Em went to stand up but Dan stopped her. “Stay there, you’ve been on your feet all day. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Go fast and be safe.”

“Promise.”

The four who were left stayed in hospitality to watch practice, Em glad to be in the air conditioning. She relaxed with them to watch, greeting Dan as he came back. Their group was just back at the caravans when her phone rang.

“Is that Emma Ricciardo?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, I’m calling from Hilton Silverstone. We have a room available, you said you wanted it?”

“I’ll be there in ten. Thank you!” She hung up and went into the one they were sharing, Callum on the couch looking at his phone.

“Grab your stuff.”

“Huh?”

“I got you a hotel room, c’mon. We’re going. I’m gonna tell Dan, maybe we can give Blake and your sister some privacy.”

“They’re in that new love touchy feely mode. It’s not fun.”

“It is for them.”

She filled Dan in on what she was doing, her husband grinning and kissing her quickly. Grace was making dinner for them all, they’d eat in the motor home and give Blake and Charlie a bit of privacy. When he went into the second bedroom to say it she heard a yell, followed by Dan’s “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

By the time they were outside Callum had his stuff in the boot of Em’s little Fiat, Em sitting in to bring him. Security was strict, showing her pass nearly not enough to get her to the hotel car park. Finally they were in and Callum got out, waving and promising to meet them in hospitality in the morning. He was a grown adult, he could do what he wanted to.

Saturday morning Em was exhausted. Her stomach was filled with butterflies for the last couple of days thanks to stress and nerves, and she was terrified watching Dan go out in the car. But she had to trust everyone on that pit wall had her husband’s best interests at heart. If they didn’t then Dan wouldn’t get in the car.

She’d forgotten what it felt like to arrive at a race as the partner of a driver. It was different compared to Thursday and Friday, now it was the business end of the weekend. It felt like every photo was of her bump, of how she kept one hand on top of it when she was speaking. The hugs her friends gave her were photographed and carefully checked. Chloe had texted her one of her and Lance with a grin and a it’s unfair my brother sees you before I do that Em had sent a selfie back to. Chloe’s fault for being in Colorado with Scotty.

That morning while Charlie and Dan were getting ready Em and Blake had a conversation about what this weekend could lead to. The ultimate goal was a seat for Dan with Red Bull. But Em’s photos with people around the paddock would help with the media game and that was what she had to do. See her friends and people she liked, smile widely and get photos taken. It sucked that she had to, but the more it seemed like other teams were interested the more it would help.

Lawrence had known immediately what was happening, laughing with her and staring around at a photographer.

“Making it seem like we’ll sign Daniel? You know that it was never any of our-“

“Lawrence it wasn’t your fault. Or Seb’s. He apologised to Dan so many times last season. It all started from Monaco. I know for a fact there were discussions with people from Baku. You were at our wedding, you know we don’t blame Aston for anything.”

“I know. But still.”

“But nothing. How’re you doing? How’s Lance, I haven’t really talked to him much.”

They separated with the older man promising that the baby was receiving a bag of Aston Martin merch, Em laughing that Dan wouldn’t let it in the house as she said goodbye.

Practice was spent in the Energy Station, sipping a smoothie while she watched the screen. Joe sat beside her, Grace in the garage to watch for a while.

“Are you doing ok? I know Dan says he is, and I know you’ll pretend to the world you are, but are you really? You didn’t expect this.”

“Nobody expected it. It’s kind of insane.” She ran through the timeline with him, how Dan had come home from filming and in the sim the night before with no idea and then they were running so he’d make meetings and media. As she talked Max came into the room and sat at their table.

“Em. Joe. Sorry for putting Dan out like this, but he’s enjoying being in the car of course?”

“He is. Are you ok?”

In a different world Em thought they could have been close. Dan loved Max like a brother, and Em liked him as a person. But it was the people around him who she couldn’t stand. From the first time they’d met his father tried to make her feel less than, and Dan had told her the story of Kelly trying to ask him out shortly after she and Daniil had split up. She knew better than almost anyone how hard it was to cut those ties, but she couldn’t let herself be close to people who couldn’t cut them themselves.

“Getting there. I’m allowed look at screens now. Of course the crash was not my fault but that’s not something I can say outside. I spoke to Christian and he said we’d talk about it later. But this cannot continue.”

“I’m really glad you’re ok. We were watching, it was scary.”

“Thank you. You will tell Daniel that I was asking about him? They want to film something with the three of us later. He can be the padding.”

“We will. Look after yourself.”

He left and Joe looked at her with a small smile. “If I didn’t know about walls here and ears I’d say something.”

“It’s been bad. That’s all I’ll say.”

Red Bull had done well to hide how awful the relationship between the drivers was, but it was ice cold. Max barely acknowledged Checo when the cameras weren’t watching. There was a reason Dan was the one who was in all the videos with them. Max had only just left when Carola came over, taking a seat.

“Joe, have you met Carola? She’s Checo’s wife, she was so nice to me on Thursday when it was just us here. Carola, my father in law, Joe Ricciardo. I promise he’s not actually scary.” The younger woman smiled, holding out her hand for Joe to shake.

“You all came for the race?”

“Of course. Seeing Dan in a car again? With a team that supports him? The second we got the call we were looking for flights. Emmy had it organised, she was booking them already.”

“It was easier booking all five of you than everyone booking separately. I’m just glad we could.” It was quiet conversation between the three of them until Joe stood up.

“I‘ll stretch my legs. Em, text me if either of you ladies want anything. You don’t need to stand and get it, that’s what we’re for.” He left and Carola looked at Em confused.

“He’s Daniel’s dad, right? He acts like he’s yours.”

“We’re family. I’ve known him since before Dan and I started dating. It’s part of how I know Dan’s going to be such a good dad when the baby arrives. Plus, we’ve got a hard stop on when he’s driving.”

“Why?” The question was tinged with something more than just politeness, but Em kept going.

“He doesn’t want to miss the big events. The baby’s going to start school in 2027, so 2026 will be his last year if he gets a seat. We’ll be in Australia, it’s too far. It’s different for Louise, she’s in Europe. It’s even different for you, you’re in Mexico, right? How long is the flight?”

“Eleven hours to London. It’s ok.”

“Not bad. It’s seventeen from Perth if you get the direct one.”

“So Daniel will retire?”

“Yeah. I do most of the parenting till then, and then we swap. I get to decide what I want to do and he’ll be the main parent. It won’t be easy for us, but it’s what we want. Do you have photos of your kids? I think I saw them in Mexico last year but I wasn’t too well.”

“I remember! Daniel drove well. Here’s the three of them.”

It was oohing and awwing at the kids, Grace coming back and joining in. She pulled out the photos of Isaac and Isabella, Em feeling like she’d joined some secret club of parents who were so proud of their kids and their accomplishments. Carola was quiet, but she was nice to chat to. They’d never really be friends, they were too different, but having someone who knew the fear watching each race was something she could appreciate.

Finally it was time for qualifying. Em watched as Dan brought the car smoothly out of the pits, the car reacting just how he wanted it to. She hadn’t seen it like this since the Renault days, the car moving how he wanted it to. That smile as he put his helmet on, her and Callum standing listening to the radio. It was jarring hearing GP talk to Dan, but it fit somehow. She watched as he did his runs, not even the red flag stopping him from safely making it into Q2.

Em had nearly forgotten what it felt like to not worry about Dan going out in Q1. But she didn’t realise until the car was wheeled back in fully that Checo had been knocked out, the other driver’s face like thunder as he hopped out of the car and started the walk down to be weighed.

“That makes five in a row,” Callum whispered to her and Em shaking her head in response.

“Later. But I know.”

Q2 was tighter. Dan had told her that the only thing that Christian had said to him was he was expected to make it into Q3. Doing that was a good day for him with so little time in the car before now. She held her breath as Logan Sargeant had yet another lap time deleted, Daniel P10 and scraping through. Blake took her hand at the end of the round, squeezing once.

“He’s fine. He’s improving every lap, and he’s got a new set of softs for this. It’s Dan.”

“I know. I know.”

The last round was almost painful. Em held her breath as the chequered flag came out, Dan last to go across the line. He’d been in p10 until that lap, pushing him up into p5 and starting just behind the Ferraris.

“P5 Daniel. Great job, good spot for tomorrow.”

“Ah I’m sorry. It should have been higher.” She could hear the annoyance in himself as he spoke, wanting to hug her husband.

“Dan you did great. Little bit of traffic compromised the lap slightly and you still brought it home. This is a good base to go from tomorrow. Well done.”

The one thing that truly annoyed Em was that this was the first race McLaren had showed true promise in. A tractor of a car last year, unreliable and temperamental the year before, but now it was a front row lockout. Her annoyance at that team would always be there, but this was the time for her to smooth her face and grin because Dan had put in a hell of a performance. And beaten his teammate by eleven grid places. No big deal.

Dan was sent out early that night for an early arrival to the track the next morning. Everyone piled into the weird little golf cart to bring them back to the drivers campsites to relax. They were on the couch when Blake and Charlie stood up and grabbed their jackets.

“Blake’s bringing me on the ferris wheel and for food. There’s some of the nutritionist approved driver meals in the fridge, and I made sure there’s a bag of peach rings for you there too Em. We’ll be gone for oh, I dunno, three or four hours? Have fun!” Em laughed as the two of them left the exact same way she and Dan had the night before, leaning against her husband for a kiss.

“Does it make us old if I say I want food before anything else?” She asked, watching the grin spread on Dan’s face.

“Considering you’re growing a whole extra human no, no it doesn’t. You’re 18 weeks yesterday, right?”

“Yup. Almost halfway to meeting them.”

“Her.” She pushed against Dan to stand up, smiling as he got up.

“Them. We don’t find out for another three weeks. What if they’re a boy? What then?”

“Then I’ll love him all the same. But I just know. This baby is a girl, and she’s gonna be our Luna. Aren’t you, Lulu?”

“You need some food. C‘Mon. It’s an early night for race car drivers.”

Sunday morning dawned too early for both of them, staring at the clock until it was time to get up. It was real. Dan was driving in Silverstone again, and he was going to be in a good car. Em had so much faith in him.

“Promise me something?” She asked as he held her before they got out of bed.

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave anything out there. We don’t know what’s going to happen. But I don’t want you to have any regrets about this race or driving this car. Go out there and focus on driving as well as you can and as fast as you can. I’ve got faith in you, Danny.”

“I love you so much. I’m gonna do it. Alex bet me a hundred pounds that he’ll finish ahead of me. I’ve got to at least beat him.” Em giggled, laughing as Dan turned them over to kiss her before getting out of bed.

Getting ready to go to the paddock felt normal, and when they got into the main area of the caravan everyone was there with breakfast. Grace was cooking bacon and eggs, there were fresh rolls someone had gone out to get, and a big fruit salad in the middle of the table. The five others who were there clapped as Dan came out in an Enchante hoodie, Joe pointing to one of the seats.

“Your mother has food now, cmon and sit down. She texted Michael, he gave her a list of what to make.”

Em was missing the fourth member of their quartet. She’d hugged him briefly on Thursday, but there was so little time to see him. He had a week off in London and had promised to at least get lunch with her which was something. But she ate and laughed and walked into the paddock holding Dan’s hand for the fourth day in a row. They could do this. It’d be fine.

The mornings of races were usually chaotic, and this was no exception. She brought Callum upstairs to watch the F3 and F2 races from the roof of the garages, watching his face light up as he saw the cars battle it out.

“Would you do something like this? Charlie said you want to be a mechanic.”

“Not F1. The travel would kill me. I dunno how you and Dan and Blake do it. But a karting circuit or something, I’d like to help out there. My mates and I go most weeks, I usually help out with the mechanics there.” She nodded at him. All she’d known about him before the trip was he was Charlie’s brother, a massive F1 fan, and he recognised Blake the moment he walked into Charlie’s parents house. But he was smart and polite, and he didn’t let being starstruck stop him from chatting to other drivers. Watching him joke around with Esteban and Lance for a few moments when Lance had come over to say hi to her was a highlight.

Finally it was time for Dan to start going out. The cheer from the grandstand as his vintage car went past made Em grin broadly. No matter what she was going to enjoy this day. If this was the final race it was with people who cared about Dan, who wanted him to do well and loved him. That was more important than anything else.

“Your husband’s popular today.” Christian stood beside her and Em nodded.

“Isn’t it why you hired him? He’s always popular. I just want today to go well for him.”

“It will.” The certainty in his voice nearly startled her. “This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him before a race. Ever. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

Dan came back in and changed before coming down, kissing Em and bending down to kiss her bump. She smiled with watery proud eyes before kissing his cheek.

“Remember what I said this morning. But more importantly, go fast and be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrinkles. See you on the other side.”

Waiting for the race to begin was an age. There was the trip to the grid, the grid walk playing on the telly beside her, and then the formation lap began. As it did Charlie stepped beside her, holding her hand tightly.

“You ok?” She asked, Em nodding.

“There’s a decent chance a camera will be on my face at some point. But yeah. I will be. I just want to watch Dan and make sure he’s ok.”

One ear on her headphones was Dan’s radio, the other was the commentary from Sky. The cars were lined up and she watched the lights blink off.

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Carlos Sainz had a slow getaway, letting Daniel Ricciardo in the Red Bull get the better of him. The two McLarens are still first and second, but they’ve got a Ferrari less than a second back, and a driver with something to prove currently in fourth.”

“Good work getting away, Daniel. Currently P4, P4, with-“

“I don’t want to know who’s ahead. Let me know if anyone behind me is coming close, but otherwise if I need to know I’ll ask, ok?”

“Understood.”

Fifty two laps went past quicker than Em could have thought. It was terrifying. She watched the screen on lap three as DRS was enabled and Dan slid on the inside of Charles around a corner.

“And I think the last of the late brakers is definitely back with us, that was classic Ricciardo right there.”

“Look at him, it’s such a difference to last year. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He’s got his replacement in his sights and I don’t know if this McLaren can hold up much of a fight.”

“He’s not going to make it two overtakes in four corners is oh wait he is! That was skill and talent and trusting the car you’re in. I dare say that rivals a Lewis Hamilton in 2014 or 2015 overtake.”

“I think you’re right Crofty, he’s really making this count. Up to P2 now and we’re three laps in. Meanwhile his teammate lost a position at the start and is currently battling Tsunoda!”

Em stared at the timer, the gap between Dan and Lando dropping from three seconds to two, and finally he was inside DRS range. The rear wing opened and she watched her husband do the overtake on the McLaren car, pulling ahead and going around the corner in a sweeping motion.

The garage erupted in cheers from the pit crew watching the screens, “c’mon Danny boy!” heard from a couple of them. Em kept a hold of Charlie’s hand, breathing deeply with her other one kept steady on her bump. He could do this. He could do it. This was Monaco, but a fully working engine. This was the proof that Dan hadn’t lost everything. That the trust Red Bull had put in him wasn’t misplaced.

As the pit stops happened she rolled her shoulders to get some tension out, but he was still out there. Finally he was called back in, a nearly thirty second gap to Lewis behind him. It was tight, so tight that Em held her breath while he was in the pits, watching as he came out just ahead of Lewis. This was it.

“That’s Lewis one point three behind, try to open a gap so he doesn’t get into DRS. They’ve got some good race pace.”

“What about the McLarens?”

“Behind Lewis.”

“Copy. Clear to push to the end?”

“Clear to push.”

Dan’s soft tyres did what they were supposed to, pushing him forward and propelling him to a gap. Em watched everyone in the garage stand as the chequered flag was waved, her husband in P1 as tears fell down her face. He’d done it. He’d won at Silverstone and he’d won a race and he had nothing left to prove. Nothing.

“I’m sorry. I thought I’d get Carlos at the end. Sorry for not winning it for you.”

“Dan what are you talking about?”

“I’m P2, right?”

“Daniel it’s Christian. You were about to lap Carlos, he got a puncture and had to pit. You did it. You won the race.”

“I won?”

The shock in his voice was clear, Blake holding Em up as she listened. He didn’t even know.

“You won, mate. You’re a British Grand Prix winner and a nine time Grand Prix winner. Come on back in and pull up at the big number one.”

It felt like an instant that Em was pulled down to Parc Ferme, half walking, half running down the pit lane. Blake had one hand and Charlie had the other, and she knew she was on camera but she couldn’t care how she looked because she needed to see her husband right that moment.

The mechanics let her through to the barrier, standing beside GP and Christian. She knew Dr Marko was somewhere nearby but she ignored, focusing on the navy car pulling in and the roar of the crowd as Dan stopped the car. His head tilted forward against the steering wheel before he pulled it out and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out and stood on the halo for a moment, thumping his chest three times. Em covered her mouth, the memories of Monaco and Monza hitting her full force. That was her husband. He’d won in Silverstone.

She watched him get weighed and then he ran straight across to grab her, leaning across the barrier to kiss her.

“You went fast.”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you right now, Baby. So proud. Go do a shoey for us?”

“Of course.”

She watched him get enveloped by the team, Christian grabbing him for a hug before Dan was brought over for his interview. Lewis and Lando both hijacked it, the younger driver’s “I mean his missus is British so technically this is also his home race, right?” Making the crowd cheer even louder. Finally they were led up to the drivers cooldown room and the podium.

His grin was impossible to miss. Dan stood on that top step, GP on the constructor’s podium as Advance Australia Fair rang out across Northamptonshire. She watched the champagne be sprayed in slow motion, Lewis and Lando taking full opportunity to spray him before Dan pulled his racing boot off and poured into it. The crowd was chanting “shoey” as he drank, holding the boot aloft like a goblet. The other drivers followed suit, even GP taking a sip before pouring the rest of it out. Em felt like she’d burst with pride as her entire family was there with them to celebrate Dan’s success.

It took an age for Dan to be free from press but Em didn’t mind. She walked the paddock to see friends, giving hugs to the drivers she knew well enough. Charles stopped her to specifically congratulate her on the pregnancy, giving a hug and promising to give her Italian baby books so the baby wouldn’t just speak English. He was disappointed after his race so she just hugged him and promised to cheer him on in the next one.

Finally Dan was free, and the hug he gave her was everything. The seven of them went for dinner together nearby, a private room that someone from Red Bull managed to get them. There was a party in his honour from Red Bull, Em insisting Dan at least showed his face at it. By nine he was back in the caravan they were sharing with Blake and Charlie, food on the table for the four of them as they curled up on the couches. Blake was the first one to break the silence.

“Christian asked me for a meeting tomorrow. Me and him while Dan’s prepping for the tyre test. The paddock rumour is Checo and his wife had a fight on Saturday night in his motorhome. She threatened to leave him.”

“Oh shit. Saturday was when we were talking and I told her our plans.” Em explained the entire conversation she had with Carola about Dan being an involved parent and the travel plans they had for the baby. Charlie started giggling as she spoke.

“You psyched her out! You showed her what her life could be like if he wasn’t a cheating cunt - do not shush me Blake Friend I didn’t care about F1 then and I saw the videos - and actually cared about his family. She’s setting her boundaries. Good for her!”

“Which means his seat is empty next season. Nyck’s gone from the summer. Alex Palou in Indycar is Marko’s preferred driver for that seat, but he can only take it after Monza because of the Indy season. He doesn’t know if Lawson can make the step up, and he doesn’t want Iwasa. Plus with the Yuki stuff I dunno.”

“Yuki stuff?” Dan asked as he speared a piece of chicken from the platter.

“Sauber want him. They think he could bring that car into the points regularly and learn from Bottas. So that could be two Alpha Tauri seats open for next year at least. Would you take one?”

“I mean I want Red Bull. But I know even with today it’s not guaranteed. I’d take it if the contract says I’m first driver and have first dibs on a Red Bull seat. But who would take that seat?”

“Max wants you.” Em was the one who spoke, making herself comfortable on Dan’s lap. She and Charlie were each on their partner’s laps, Dan’s hand protectively around her stomach. “We were talking for a few minutes on Saturday. If he got Nyck that seat - unproven Nyck De Vries who’d never been involved in Red Bull - him lobbying for you can get you the seat. We know Christian would be happy to have you back. I say go for the Red Bull. Checo was completely shown up this weekend. I love you Baby and you know I believe in you, but in any other team those results should have been reversed. He shouldn’t be beaten by the reserve.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with that?”

“I’m gonna head over to Grace and Joe, let you guys talk.” Charlie went to get up but Blake kept her still, Em turning to face her.

“You’re involved in this. You get a say. This only happens if it’s four yes votes.”

“I’m not involved in Dan’s career. I don’t need a say.”

“You’re Blake’s girlfriend. The two of you live together even if you don’t admit it. He’s going to be gone for weeks or months at a time and it’s hard. So yeah, you do have a say in this. As someone who was in your position before you definitely have a say.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments as they all thought. Em was the first to break the silence.

“I say yes. It’s going to be hell travelling with a baby, but if you want it then it’s a yes.”

“Yes.” Charlie looked at Blake as she spoke, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder. “I just…yes. Today made me realise why Callum has loved racing for so many years. And yeah it’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna hurt and Blake and I will be moping around when we’re apart. But you’ve got a deadline, right?”

“End of 2026. The baby’s in pre-kindy from 2027, proper school the year after. We want to be well settled before that happens.” His hand rubbed Em’s bump as he spoke, Charlie nodding.

“I can do that. It’s a yes from me.” She faced Blake fully and Em felt like she was intruding watching them as Charlie’s voice got thick. “I love you. And this is going to be so hard. But we know it’ll be hard and that’s how we’ll make it through. We’ll figure it out somehow. But if they’re travelling the world with a baby then that child’s uncle Blake needs to be right there too, yeah? So we’re doing this.”

Blake pushed a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead. “If Chuck says yes then I say yes. It’s all her.”

Em looked up at Dan, at the determination on his face. Her sunshine boy who’d won nine races, all of them at different tracks. Who deserved the world and who people finally realised was as talented as he’d always said he was.

“Yeah. I really want this. Thanks for letting me try for it.”

“Ooof.” The butterflies in her stomach solidified for a moment, a weird feeling against Em. “Oh my god. The baby agrees. They just kicked I think.”

“What? Seriously?” Dan pushed his hand on her belly and Em could feel the movement properly. Their baby was there and safe and was going to be fine.

“Yeah. They did it again when you pushed. So we’re doing this? Three more years of chaos?”

“Three more years of chaos.”

Em sat against her husband, their best friends on the other couch. Charlie had quickly become someone she trusted more than almost anyone else. She’d kept their secrets, and in return Em was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Blake and Charlie got their happy ending.

The good mood from the win stayed that way the entire night. It was a lazy, lazy night with them watching a movie. Callum texted Charlie that he was down at main stage before going back to his hotel, Joe and Grace stayed in their own motorhome. Everything was hitting Em all at once. Dan won Silverstone. He won her home race. As she went to bed that night it was all that she could think about.

The next morning was chaos. They had hotel rooms booked because of the tyre test, and the caravan and motor home were being taken back by the rental agency. Instead they were packing to move to the hotel, and Em handed Callum her Oyster card before he headed back to London with Grace and Joe. The three of them were staying in Dan and Em’s apartment for the tyre test before they spent time together after it. It was hugs goodbye until Dan and Blake dropped their respective partners off at the same hotel Callum had been staying in. The rooms weren’t ready, but Em and Charlie could sit in the restaurant until they were.

Em hugged Dan goodbye, kissing his cheek.

“Whatever happens this week, you won Silverstone. You have nothing to prove them. Don’t think you do.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Dimples.”

Beside her Charlie was doing the same goodbye, slipping her favourite necklace into Blake’s hand.

“What’s this for? You never take this off, you said it’s a family one.”

“Yeah well it’s for the next couple of hours to give you good luck. Not that you need it, but every little helps.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I love you.”

“Love you too. Go get him that seat, yeah?”

Em watched the two drive off before sitting with Charlie to wait. Now they actually knew what might happen she was ready but terrified.

Taglist: @dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javen @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

[beaverdrea]

so i was writing this misty defence essay anyway…

first of all. the girls wouldn’t have gotten rescued even if misty hadn’t destroyed the transmitter. the wilderness didn’t want them to leave. so they don’t. until they have served their purpose to it.

second of all. of all the reasons to do something awful. misty had a pretty fucking good one. all her life she has been excluded, even in the yellowjackets. she was never seen as anything by anyone. just this annoying little unlovable girl who doesn’t do anything. when they crash, misty is everything to them. she knows what to do. the girls (at the beginning) have this appreciative love for misty, they are so grateful for her. misty has never and i mean never felt loved. not by her parents. not by her peers. no one. for the literal first time in her life, misty is appreciated. when she hears van talking about how useful she is, (a level of praise, respect and admiration she has probably never heard about herself before) misty snaps and is overwhelmed by this love. she doesn’t know how to handle or accept this love (as we see throughout the whole show (it takes her like a day for her to adjust to having a best friend, something she says she’s never had before). so, misty in this high of acceptance and gratitude, she does what most teenage girls would do in this situation, as makes sure she stays loved for as long as possible. of course the situation is extremely blown out of proportion, because they’re in a fucking plane crash, but imagine it on a smaller scale. imagine if you wanted the admiration you would get from getting your soccer team to nationals so bad, that you broke a girl’s leg because she wasn’t a good player. oh wait. that’s exactly what tai did. they are so many parallels in this show. the writers are literally trying to get us to understand misty, which is obviously hard for a lot of people because we only actually see her actions, we can see her thoughts or reasonings.

third of all. (you don’t actually have to read this all i’m just extremely passionate about this show). omg. misty is loved again. while the girls still respect misty for helping them tactically, time and time again, they are getting a bit annoyed tired of her. as you would of anyone that isn’t god themself when you’re stuck starving in the wilderness. all misty wants is to be loved, as she is genuinely probably the best friend on the whole show. but crystal starts to see her. not as an annoying gear holder for the team. but as a friend. misty’s first ever real friend. ever. and she’s 16-17 mind you. and they share everything with each other. almost. they have about two weeks-one month together, as we can determine from the show’s timeline, until misty and crystal make a promise to *always* be best friends and love each other, no matter what. misty is young and naive and very autistic coder and doesn’t understand that crystal could still be mad if she told her what she did. so she tells her. and suddenly she’s alone again. misty in no way intends to kill crystal, she is in this haze of wanting, needing to be loved again and only wants to threaten crystal into being her best friend again. and when crystal is gone for good, misty feels utterly alone. through all of this, she is still trying so hard to be enough for everyone. she pushes and pushes to be loved, respected as a peer, but it never seems to work out. no one ever really respects her after this, except walter (for a little while) but misty still tries harder than anyone else to be loved. like she loves.

i think this deserves a list of shit misty’s gone through, to wrap up this rant. (also if you still don’t like her after this, it’s genuinely fine. some people never will. it’s just about trying to understand her character. but once you do, if you still don’t like her that’s totally okay. also not a single character in yj is a good person. that’s the whole point of the show.)

-bullied by everyone she knows her entire life

-excluded even in her own team

-been in love with someone who she thought could never love her back, gets lied to, gets her hopes up, then gets her heart crushed again.

-tried to stay loved for longer, realised what she’d done, regretted it so badly

-thought she would be respected, got her hopes up, got her heart crushed

-been excluded by her team, even out in the wild

-still being untrusted, even after trying everything she can to fix a mistake that mari made

-being told she’s only being kept alive because she’s handy

-seeing and doing so much horrific shit that no one should ever have to go through (big one)

-seeing the people she’s loved (mostly unreciprocated) die one by one

-going back to the real world, only to be/feel even more useless than she was before.

-accidentally killing the one person who tried to love her back!!!!!!!!!

all this said, i may have forgotten or missed things. everyone in yellowjackets did shitty stuff, misty was just the autistic “not beautiful” one, who got one of the worst chances to do one of the worst things.

thank you for coming to my ted talk… misty defender for life.

[the-lavender-room]

Remember this thing I mentioned

The past week and a half had gone by slowly. Over 250 hours dragged on and on; an eternity of waiting for this moment. Murmurs and whispers fill the late afternoon air. Half-audible words dissolved into a blanket of white noise. The only discernible sounds being the buzz of insects that got too close.

Curt sighed; slouching in the folding chair that was provided. There weren’t that many people here and he doesn’t know them. Curt was alone here, and he’ll be alone for a while. It wasn’t the first funeral he’d been to, but it is the one he was the least prepared for.

Richard, Mary, Carl, and Jamie. His friends, they were all dead. When he first heard of the crash, he didn’t think much of it; he’d heard of many plane crashes before. A few days later they had identified the bodies, and Curt was devastated. They were the only ones who stuck with him since college and they died so soon. It wasn’t fair.

Curt wiped away the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes.

————————————

Curt almost didn’t notice as people began to clear out; his mind must have wandered off and wasn’t aware of the loss of time. He inhaled sharply, feeling like his body wasn’t able to before. The man stood up, took a second to stretch, and said ’goodbye’ to his dear friends one more time.

He leaned against a lamppost outside the cemetery, waiting to grab a cab home. With the last bit of red at the edge of the horizon fading to a deep purple. He’ll never see his friends again. Not directly at least.

Curt and Martha had been asked to watch over Carl and Jamie’s son, Eddie, before they left for their trip; looks like they’ll be watching him longer than they thought. Martha decided to stay home with him; the sudden death of close family was a very difficult concept for a small child to understand.

Curt watched small moths flutter around the light; one got caught in a web.

A tap on the shoulder got the young man’s attention. Curt turned and saw another man; hair already fading to gray. The man smiled but spoke with a somber tone. “You must be Curt, right? Curt Conners? I’m Ben. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”

Curt rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah, that’s me…” He recognized the man now; Ben Parker was Richard’s older brother. Richard used to talk about him a lot and had only good things to say. Maybe this conversation won’t be so awkward. “…It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He held out his hand. The older man took it in his own firm, yet gentle, grip. His tone and demeanor seemed friendly enough and Curt relaxed a bit. A nice change from other people Curt has met in… recent years.

The two men easily fell into friendly conversations. They reminisce about their lost friends and family. It felt nice to have a relatively casual conversation with someone other than just Martha. Hopefully, they could stay in contact after this.

—————————————

Time moved too quickly, for once, and before they knew it, a taxi pulled up. Curt jumped in the backseat, but before he could give directions home, the door opened again.

Ben stood in the door for a second, a look of confliction clear on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “I, uh…” whatever the older man had to say was obviously hard for him; it was important. “…You remember Peter?”

“Peter? Yeah, a little bit.” Richard and Mary’s son. Curt ”met” him twice before; only a few weeks after the kid was born, and at his third birthday only months ago. Of course custody of the kid went to his aunt and uncle.

“My wife and I, we’re— I don’t want to pressure you, but… we’re not doing well, financially. Richard trusted you, and I do too…” Curt had a feeling he knew what the older man was trying to ask. He shifted so his full attention was on Ben. “…We don’t want to raise a kid in a bad situation, it’s not fair to him. I don’t want you to feel obligated, but we would appreciate some help, just a little.”

Curt almost couldn’t believe it, Ben Parker was asking him to help take care of his nephew, Richard’s son, his friends’ son.

“Let me talk this over with my wife first” this wasn’t a decision for curt to make on his.

The man sighed and thanked him before closing the door, to the annoyance of the driver. Curt gave directions to his neighborhood and watched as the older got smaller and smaller in the distance.

————————————

Curt had gotten home much later than he would like. With the moon rising high in the sky, and the stars shining brightly; Curt was glad he and Martha called the next few days off.

In the living room, he found the TV set to the menu screen of a kids movie; bright colored dinosaurs smiling.

Martha sat at the end of the couch; a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She stared blankly, not at the tv, but somewhere beyond that Curt couldn’t see. Eddie was on the other end of the couch; too untrusting of the adults to get close, yet not wanting to be left alone.

He rounded the corner and embraced her with a kiss. Her dull, blue eyes looked up at him; finally realizing he was home. “Hm. How’re you feeling?” She sounded tired, and sad.

“Well, I’ve been worse…” He laughed half-heartedly. He sat on the arm of the couch; resting his head against Martha’s. Curt felt mentally and socially exhausted, so he appreciated this small moment before he mentions their ”proposition”.

“Sooo… I met Ben earlier…” Martha looked at him confused. “Richard’s brother.” He clarified. He waited a few minutes before continuing; “…He asked if we could help his nephew, Peter.”

Curt wanted to help, he really did. He knew it was hard for a young couple to take care of a toddler. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for an older couple, especially with everything going on.

“Well…” she looked down towards her feet. Her grip on the blanket tightened. Curt sat up awkwardly; he looked over at the six year old curled up opposite of them. He couldn’t make his snoring sound faker even if he tried.

“…Well, we do have a third room…” Martha continued. She put her hand on Curt’s. “And I’m sure Eddie will be excited to see his little friend more.”

Curt lit up; nearly slipping off the couch. “And y-y’er sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” She stood, wrapping her arms around him and gave him another kiss. “I miss Richard and Mary as much as you do. I’d love to help my close friends, even if they’re…” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes.

‘they’re gone…’

———-

Let me know if any spelling mistakes, thanks ☺️

[outercrasis]

Snowed Inn

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader

Word Count / Rating: 3.3k / T

Summary: Business executive Max Phillips gets stuck in a small Christmas-loving town and meets the owner of the town's bed & breakfast. Through a chance encounter, will Max learn to love the holiday season again?

A/N: I love cheesy terrible hallmark christmas movies and Max Phillips, so I thought why not combine them? I think this will end up being 3 parts and hopefully they'll all be out before the 25th. Thank you to @honestly-shite for reading this over for me and convincing me it wasn't trash 💕 Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

A cloud of white follows the luxury car, snow billowing behind as it flies down the two lane freeway. Max pays no attention to the posted speed limit, his schedule hindered by the mix-up with his plane ticket. Knowing that the intern who incorrectly booked his ticket would be working double overtime as a result is a small consolation.

“I’m aware of when the presentation is, Evan,” Max says, rolling his eyes. As though he could forget. This week-long conference has been on his calendar for months, with the potential to cultivate new business connections that could help the company grow tenfold. He had even been the one to sign them up to give a presentation on alternative management styles.

Evan’s voice crackles through the car’s speakers, Max’s phone connected to the bluetooth. “This presentation is crucial. You need to be here for it.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in time to make sure you don’t ruin the company’s name with your stage fright.”

Evan sputters a bit and Max grins. “See you soon, champ.”

He’s not even sure why Evan is worried about the presentation. It’s still a few days out and he has plenty of time before then to make it to the conference. Max can’t say he’s all that broken up about missing the first few days anyway. There’s only so much ass kissing even he can stand and Tim is there to balance out Evan’s wet-blanket personality. Max can smooth over any speedbumps when he gets there.

There isn’t much on this stretch of road. Tall pines and naked trees line the roads, snow covering everything in a soft blanket. If Max cared, he might take the time to slow down and appreciate the soft beauty of winter, but it all passes him by. A nearly monotone background for him to push through.

There are seemingly no other cars on the road, a small blessing in Max's eyes. He only sees one old rusted out pickup that he easily breezes past. Driving as quickly as he is, he should make it to the conference in no time.

The check engine light turns on just as an awful churning sound starts under the hood. Max’s hands tighten on the steering wheel and his foot shifts to the brake. The sound grows louder despite Max’s whispered pleas. There's a final, terrible churn before the engine dies completely and Max guides the vehicle to a slow stop.

Frantically, he tries to turn the engine over again. It grinds and falters for a few seconds before failing to turn over and falling silent again. Doing it a second or third time doesn’t offer better results.

“No, no, NO,” Max yells, hitting the steering wheel of his car with the palm of his hands.

"Fucking rental company, giving me a busted car," Max swears while digging for his phone. He pulls it out just to be met with the unforgiving black screen of a dead battery. The call with Evan must have used the last of it.

Another stream of swears accompanies the thud of Max’s hands hitting the wheel again. He’s pretty sure he saw a sign recently for a town somewhere up ahead. He’d been driving too fast to actually read it, but it’s the one chance he has now. His only hope is that it’s not too far so he can reach it before dark.

Max sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and preparing for a long walk when there’s a knock at his window. He opens his eyes, surprised to be face to face with a gorgeous woman. You’re bundled up for the cold weather, wearing a ridiculous red and green hat with a sparkly pom-pom on top, and still your beauty shines through. For a second Max wonders if he’s died and this is some bizarre version of heaven or hell.

You give him a friendly smile and wave, stepping back from the car. Max shoves his dead phone into his pocket, taking the keys out of the ignition and steps into the frigid winter air. Parked behind him is the rusted out truck he passed a while back. He can only assume you’re the driver.

You stick your gloved hand out to him and introduce yourself. “Seems like you’re having car troubles? If you’d like, I can give you a lift to town so you don’t have to wait for a tow in the cold.”

Max gives you his most charming smile. “Can I just use your phone, buttercup? Mine is dead and I haven’t been able to call a roadside service.”

You laugh. “No one but Roger will come out here, especially not with the weather that’s on the way. I’ll give you a ride into town and we can let him know where your car is for that tow.”

His smile becomes more tight lipped. Beautiful or not, he doesn’t like being forced into a plan not his own. “Thanks for the offer, but I could really just use the phone call, sweetheart.”

“Look, another roadside service is never going to come, hot shot," you say, your voice hardening. "So you either hop in my truck and Roger comes and gets your car and tells you what’s wrong with it or you can stand out here all night and freeze. Your call.” You don’t give Max the opportunity to reply, spinning on your heel and heading back towards your truck.

There’s part of him that does consider not joining – wanting to prove some point that clearly won’t matter to you. You haven't even looked back to see if he’s following and seem more than fine with leaving him behind despite your friendly introduction. Max doesn’t want to get stuck in the cold or be forced to walk to town, so reluctantly, he grabs his work bag and follows.

He opens the passenger door as you start the truck’s engine. “Glad you made the right decision,” you say, pulling out your phone.

The two of you don’t really talk on the ride into town. You make a phone call to Roger for him and ask for his phone number to pass along, but beyond that there isn’t much said. Max isn’t sure he wants there to be anyway. With how quickly your demeanor had changed with him out on the road, he feels it’s wise to make every attempt to never see you again once he gets out of this truck. The fact that you seem hardly afraid to have a random man riding with you tells him you’re not someone to mess with either.

Max keeps an eye on the clock, fifteen minutes running past before he starts to see real signs of life again. A little worn green wooden sign welcomes him into the town and everything after that is a Christmas explosion that makes your garish knit hat pale by comparison.

Every inch of the town seems to be dripping with holiday cheer that makes Max’s blood curdle. Trees are covered in lights of every color imaginable, street lamps wrapped with garland and topped off with bright red bows, every storefront having their own decorations filling their windows. In the center of town there’s a small park that Max can see a ice rink set up in with a large pine done up to remind him of the tree in the center of Whoville. The whole thing has Max feeling like he stepped directly into a Hallmark film. He could gag.

You drive through the heart of town and Max finally has the sense to ask the question he should have when he got in. “Where are you taking me?”

“Roger will be a minute with your car, so I figured I’d take you to my place in the meantime. You might need to stay there anyway.”

You laugh at the panic on Max’s face. “Calm down, I’m not a psycho. I run the bed and breakfast in town. Although you might want to work on your survival skills a bit. Just because a pretty woman offers you a ride, doesn’t mean you should accept it.”

Max, for once in his life, has no snappy comeback. He doesn't even comment on how he wasn't given much of a choice. Instead he huffs, and looks out the window. The snow seems to be coming down harder now.

You know this was maybe not your wisest decision. Generally when there is a stranger on the side of the road, you don’t stop and offer them a ride. Especially when said stranger previously flew by you on the road at a dangerous speed. Seeing his car simply parked on the side of the road and not flipped had been a small relief. Something compelled you to check on him.

Originally when you knocked on his window, you planned to simply ask if he was okay or needed anything. When you came up and saw the helpless punching of a steering wheel, you knew he needed more than a quick jump. His phone being dead only worsened things. You could hear your mother screaming in the back of your mind when you let him into your truck, asking what on earth you thought you were doing, but you never doubted yourself for a moment.

You sneak glances over at him while you drive. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s gorgeous, even with the heavy veneer of corporate America all over him. There’s no question that many in town wouldn’t hesitate to call him a yuppie. The professional style works for him though and you thank your lucky stars for giving you a pretty man to pick up on the side of the road. You would have helped him regardless of looks, but you’re not going to complain about your good fortune either.

Max seems to teeter between appreciation and annoyance as you drive towards your humble inherited bed and breakfast. It’s unclear if the annoyance with you or the general situation he’s found himself in. You had been stern with him, but you had also saved him a two hour walk in below freezing temperatures and his expensive dress shoes. A little appreciation seems like it should be in order.

“Here we are,” you say, pulling into the drive. You’ll have to decide soon if shoveling the snow is worth it or if you should ask Roger for a plow. Considering the storm that’s rolling in, you’ll want it plowed.

Your little home and business isn’t too much, but it’s still your pride and joy. A small bed and breakfast that’s been in your family for years, well kept and maintained throughout them. It officially became yours after your grandfather passed, the only one in the family who had wanted to take it over. Your parents were already well settled into their lives and your siblings hadn’t wanted to move to the small town. You never minded it though and keeping the family legacy going felt important.

There are four rooms you rent out, the top floor being your own private area complete with two bedrooms. One you keep for yourself and the other you keep for visiting family and friends, or the rare overflow of guests. Today seems like it might end up being one of those rare occasions.

The home is decked out for the holidays, inside and out. You’ve always loved the Christmas season and decorating is only the very start of the season’s fun. The snowfall only adds to the effect, reminding you of a snowglobe with your own home at the center. If the perfect look of your home has any effect on Max, it doesn’t show.

“Come on in,” you say, hopping out of the truck.

Max had hoped for some kind of reprieve when it came to the bed and breakfast. He supposes now that it had been foolish to think. Garland and lights are strung up all over the place, a huge wreath on the door. It’s nice enough, but certainly nothing Max can imagine ever taking part in. It’s all too festive for his taste.

Looking at the blinking lights strung up at the very top of the house Max doesn’t look to see where he’s stepping, or more importantly, what’s barrelling towards him. The next thing he registers is two big paws hitting his chest and cold.

“Fang! Fang, get off him! Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

There are a few wet licks to his face before Max realizes what’s happened. There’s a massive rottweiler on his chest, pushing him deeper into the snowdrift. Suddenly, the pressure is relieved and he’s left with snow seeping in through the back of his $450 dollar peacoat.

“I am so so sorry, he’s just trying to be friendly.”

Max puts his hand down to push himself up, only for his hand to sink deep into the drift. You grab hold of his other arm, helping to pull him up from the ground. “Are you okay?”

Your hands are running all over him, brushing off snow and checking him over for any injuries. You didn’t bother to put your gloves on for the short walk between the truck and the house and you clearly aren't registering what you’re doing right now. Max gently grabs hold of your hands, returning them to you.

“I’m fine. Greet all your guests like that?” With the snow cushioning his fall, his ego is bruised more than anything. The dog is now sitting, happily wagging his tail with his tongue lolling sideways out of his mouth. He resists the urge to snarl at the beast.

Embarrassment slips from your face, replaced with a slight annoyance. "Only ones who could use a good fall on their ass."

You turn, patting your leg to have the rottweiler follow. Max can't help but smirk at your attitude. The little bit of fire in you is fun.

Halfway up the walkway Max asks, “Fang?”

You glance back at him and shrug. “I like Jack London.”

The interior is no better. He can admit the decorations are tasteful at least, but like seemingly everywhere else in this town it looks like a Christmas bomb has gone off. Decorations cover nearly every square inch, the smell of fresh pine and cinnamon spice wafting in the air.

He wanders to the front desk, head swiveling to take in all the details. You really went all out for the season. "Do you like it?" she asks, pulling Max's attention back.

You’ve shrugged off some of your extra layers and if Max wasn't so annoyed with this entire situation he'd have more than half a mind to make a meal out of you. Who knew a sweater could cling to someone in all the right places like that.

"Like what?" Max asks.

"The decorations?" you prompt. Right, those, not the distraction of seeing you outside of your puffy coat and ridiculous hat.

You seem excited about them, eyes sparkling from more than just the hundreds of lights that seem to be strung up everywhere. "They're… nice," Max says, telling himself he's only complimenting them because he needs your help.

"Thank you." You type something into the computer, working something out before looking back at him. "Right, so officially all of my rooms are taken, but I have another option if you're okay with it."

Max shudders, imagining a dusty unused room that you might shove him into while he waits on his car repairs. Or maybe you would have some spring ridden cot for him to sleep on, tucked into some random room.

"The top floor is my own space and I have a guest room up there. You're welcome to stay there, otherwise I'll need to ask another guest if they mind moving rooms."

At first, Max isn't quite sure how to react to your kindness. He had expected some terrible amenity to hold him over, but now you’re offering him a real room or to swap with another guest if he preferred? Are you ill? He'd had less amenable service at five star hotels.

"Is there something wrong with the room?" he asks.

"Something wrong-? No," you huff back.

"Then the guest room is fine, snowflake."

“I’m sorry sir, but due to the winter storm coming we won’t be able to get a replacement vehicle out to you for the next couple days. It looks like we’ve been in communication with the local shop though and the car you were driving should be fixed for you sooner than waiting on a new vehicle.”

Max pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “This is absolute bullshit.”

“I’m sorry sir, I understand your frustration. We have comped the cost of your rental as an apology for this unfortunate circumstance.”

“I know, I’m mad at this bullshit situation. I’m stuck in Santa’s damn village until the car is fixed.” He knows he’s getting snippy with this random customer service person, but the fact that nothing can be done has him feeling more than stressed. He’s going to have to work overtime to make up for any weird interactions Evan or Tim have put people through and hope that he makes it in time for the presentation. He’s suddenly thankful it’s scheduled for the final day of the conference.

“Let us know if there’s anything else we can help you with, sir, and we will do our best to assist.”

“Yeah well you can’t get me out of here, so there isn’t much else. Let me know if a car can get here faster than the one getting fixed.”

“If a car becomes available, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Great. Thanks for the help.”

“Of course, sir. Have a great rest of your day.”

“Sure. Bye.” Max tosses his phone onto the nightstand, the charging cord preventing the temptation to throw it across the room, and falls back onto the bed.

He could do this. Just a day or two stuck in this town pulled from his nightmares and then he could speed all the way to the conference. At least he could take solace in this spare room while he was stuck here. It had been a pleasant surprise to find it devoid of holiday cheer. The little private living space outside of his door is festooned, but at least he could find peace here. He wouldn't have been able to handle creepy santas and snowmen staring him down while he tried to relax at night.

There’s the sudden heavy thump of Fang's tail against the doorframe, causing Max to jump with the addition of his host’s voice joining the noise of the dog. “Santa’s damn village, huh? Not a fan of the holidays?” you ask.

“Christ, how long have you been standing there?” Max looks up to see you leaning in the doorway next to Fang. Thankfully you don't seem too offended by his less than affectionate nickname for the town.

“Long enough. You’re welcome to come to the diner with me for food. Unless you’d rather brood here.”

He wants to deny that he’s been brooding for the last half hour, but you’re right and both of you know it. Without a good comeback, Max decides to try and shock you instead. “I don’t eat regular food, sweetheart,” Max says, flashing his fangs.

To his surprise, you don't seem bothered in the slightest. “The diner sells food for you too. There’s a few vampires who live in town.”

Max agrees more out of confusion than anything. You toss a brown sherpa-lined jacket at him, landing gracelessly on the bed. “Your peacoat is still wet, and you’re going to freeze without a jacket.”

Once again, you turn and leave without room for argument – Fang offering a small happy boof before trailing after you.

Max has no idea what he’s in for until his car is fixed. His only hope is that he can make it through with relatively little frustration before getting to his presentation and never seeing this tiny Christmas town again.

Don't overthink vampires being a known thing in this universe - I just figured it would be a fun extra twist lol

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

In Name and Blood: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Let your heart feel for the afflictions and distress of everyone." - George Washington

The light peeking out from the curtains is enough to wake you up, and you turn to face your boyfriend to try and hold onto sleep a little bit longer. However, when you touch his side of the bed, it's cold and empty. Opening one eye, you notice that he isn't there. Judging by the coldness of the sheets, he left a long time ago.

"Spencer?" you call out, but you don't get a response.

You take your phone off the charger and call him, but he doesn't answer there as well. Something isn't right. You get out of bed and quickly get ready for work, grabbing your keys and heading to the car. It's still pretty early when you get to work, but this is the only place where you think Spencer can be. He could have been at his apartment, but you have a strong feeling that he's at work.

Feeling confirmed.

Spencer is in Gideon's office with a chessboard set up next to him. He is asleep on the chair, and you smile at his dedication to wait for someone all night.

"Sweetheart," you whisper and sink to your knees. "Wake up." You reach up and tuck some of his hair behind his ear. He jerks awake and looks at you, yawning and stretching due to the position he was in all night. "I missed you this morning."

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Gideon didn't answer his phone. I called him twice. We were supposed to play chess."

"Here?"

"Uh, he hasn't been back to his apartment since..." he trails off.

"Right."

"Hey, I need to brief the team," JJ says, knocking on Gideon's open door.

"Okay, we'll be right there," you nod.

"Is Hotch here?"

"He's not due for another half hour."

"Come on, babe," you say and help him to his feet.

You three head to the briefing room where only Derek is there. Penelope is here, but she is stuck in her office since she hates these briefing meetings.

"What, no Hotch, and now no Gideon?" Derek asks.

"No, not yet."

"These guys have been out for two weeks. You'd think the least they could do is be on time," Derek scoffs.

"Yeah, because you're never late," Spencer says sarcastically.

"So, where's Prentiss?"

"Her phone keeps going straight to voicemail."

"Well, this room just keeps getting smaller and smaller, doesn't it?" you say.

"Should we wait fifteen minutes?"

"We can just brief them on the plane. Right now the police task force in Milwaukee needs our help. They've had four murders over the past three weeks, and in addition, another woman has been missing for the last two days. All the women are in their thirties, married with children," JJ explains, showing the families on the screen.

"Any connection between these victims?" you ask.

"Just that they've all been abducted from the area of Wauwatosa, all from very public places, but there are no witnesses."

"How are we even certain it's the same killer?"

"Well, for starters, all of the bodies have been dumped in the city's third ward. There's also this." JJ moves onto a new picture, and you gasp at the bodies shown. "All the hearts have been cut from their bodies."

"Damn," you sigh.

"Uh, wheels up in thirty," JJ says.

You all gather your things and leave the room, heading to your desks where your go bags are in. Spencer heads off with JJ while you go off with Derek, walking with him in the hallway separating the elevator and the bullpen. The elevator dings and Hotch steps off, finally.

"Hey, I am glad to see you," Derek laughs.

"Where are you two headed?"

"Milwaukee. We'll catch you up on the flight," you state.

"I'm meeting with the section chief."

"Okay, we'll wait. We're just glad you're back. Trust me when I tell you things have been a little bit shaky around here."

"Morgan, I'm requesting a transfer."

"Is this a joke?" you ask.

"No, it's not a joke. Strauss has suspended me once already. The writing's on the wall."

"Hotch, we both know that suspension was bogus."

"You'll get a new unit chief."

"No, we don't want a new one. You know this team won't work if you're not here," you try to persuade him.

"Well, maybe the next one won't be such a drill sergeant."

"Look, man, are you a pain in my ass? Yes, sir. But wanting to hang out with you and needing you to lead this team are two very different things," Derek points out.

"I can't believe this is happening."

"Go to Milwaukee. Solve the case like we always do."

With that, Hotch walks off. You can't stay here forever, so you and Derek have no choice but to head to the plane where JJ and Spencer are. Ten minutes later, Erin Strauss enters with a stoic look on her face. Everyone is sitting away from her, as she takes a seat by the cockpit.

"You know, from this angle, she almost looks human," JJ whispers.

You turn and look over the seat's back at Strauss who is reading the case file.

"Has anyone talked to Emily yet?" Spencer asks.

"She was gone before I heard the news."

"Now we're down two agents and Gideon's MIA," Derek sighs.

"Doesn't Strauss ever do any--"

The looks on Derek and JJ's faces suggest Spencer should stop talking, and when you look back at Strauss, you realize why.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it's protocol to brief everyone before we arrive at the crime scene," she says.

"Yes, ma'am. This unsub is abducting women from very public places with no witnesses. He holds them for forty-eight hours, with no sexual assault, and then he dumps their bodies with their hearts carved out of their chests."

"There's an obvious dichotomy in the skill the unsub exhibits in abducting these women and the fact that he cuts their hearts out so crudely," Spencer says.

"We're probably looking at someone in a psychotic break. Could be a butcher. Might be a hunter. Somebody who's very comfortable being around blood, but as you can see, he obviously doesn't have the skills of a surgeon," you observe.

"So, do we have a working theory?" Strauss wonders.

"Sure we do. Somebody really doesn't like women."

Since there isn't much to discuss about this case, Strauss heads back to her corner alone. It's clear no one wants her here, and because Emily and Hotch aren't here, you have a feeling things aren't going to go the way you want them to.

The crime scene is sectioned off by the time you get to it, and there are a bunch of police officers around trying to keep people from sneaking in and getting in the way of everything. The person in charge sees your team and heads over after finishing a conversation he was having with another officer.

"Are you the FBI?"

"Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Y/N, and section chief Strauss," Derek introduces the team.

"Vic Wolynski, Milwaukee PD."

"You worked the Jeffrey Dahmer case," Spencer says with a smile.

"Yeah... sixteen years ago."

"I've studied it."

"And you remember my name?"

"He remembers everything," you chuckle. "It's what he does."

"What can you tell us?" Strauss gets back on track.

"Uh, a local merchant noticed her a few hours ago. Considering he didn't see her when he first came to work, we figure she was dumped there between 7:50 and 8:05. Same window as the others."

"All the bodies were found in this area, right?"

"Uh, Wauwatosa is an upper-middle-class suburb approximately fifteen minutes from here. All the women were abducted from there in the afternoon and turned up here in the morning two days later," Vic explained.

"All this foot traffic and no one saw anything," JJ sighs.

"Well, he wraps the bodies loosely so they're not immediately recognizable. Eventually, the wrapping comes open. My guess is he has a van or a truck, something he can back up so he's shielded when he makes the drop."

Vic continues to talk, but you're focused on what the others can't see. In the opening of the alley, you see an unmarked van back into the alley when there is no one else around. All the officers and police tape disappears, so it's just you and this van. It stops about halfway into the alley and the back door opens. The unsub tosses the victim into the street without any respect or regard for the dead. The doors slam shut and the van takes off, leaving you alone with the victim.

"The unsub tossed her like she was trash from an unmarked van. I wasn't able to see a license plate number or the look of the unsub, but I did see him dump her here. He headed right after that, but I don't know where he went," you explain.

"He just said that, Y/N," Strauss comments. "No need to repeat information."

"I'm not, ma'am. I can see more than most, and I think I can provide information that our team otherwise may not get."

You want to argue with her more, but you feel hands on your shoulders that stop you. You look up to see Derek shaking his head. He's right. He may not have said it, but his eyes did. It's not worth arguing with her. You already know she is going to be a non-believer if you told her what you could do. Your entrance into the BAU wasn't exactly traditional, so you can understand why she would give you the cold shoulder sometimes.

"No prints on whatever he wraps them in?" Derek wonders.

"There have been traces of paint and wood stain, but most of it is just common stuff you'd get at any hardware store."

"He's trying to demean them, putting them out like trash."

"This guy might work or live around here who gets off on the reaction to his... handiwork," you sigh.

"What can you tell us about the victim?" JJ asks.

"She was taken from a supermarket. Her husband says that most days she would have been picking up her son at school, but he was spending the afternoon at a friend's."

"This is your fifth victim, right?" Strauss asks.

"Yes."

"You should have called us sooner."

"I thought we had a handle on it."

"Apparently not."

"Ma'am. Excuse me, sir," JJ sighs, politely taking Strauss off to the side.

What a bitch. You don't want to be rude, but it's like Strauss doesn't have any experience out in the field, and if she does, it's nothing recent.

"I don't like her," you cross your arms.

"You don't like anybody."

"This is different. She's arrogant and cocky. If we fail here, it'll be because of her."

"You need to take it back a notch, Y/N. Let it go," Derek tries to play the middle man here.

JJ and Strauss finish talking, but Strauss isn't done giving out lectures. She motions for you to come to her, and you just sigh internally. With a neutral face, you head over to her.

"You needed to see me?"

"I don't appreciate you arguing with me when I tell you something."

"I'm sorry if it came across like that, ma'am. I don't know if Hotch told you, but I'm an empathetic--"

"I don't care to hear about it," she cuts you off. "Speak when you have something useful to add."

She leaves your side, and this time, your blood actually boils. You take out your phone and dial Hotch since you really miss him being here. It seems like he's been waiting for a call since he answers right away.

"Hey. How's it going?" he asks knowing it's you.

"Well, Strauss just offended the lead detective forty-five seconds into her first crime scene. And insulted me, but that's fine."

"I'm not surprised. What did she say?"

"Nothing of importance. This isn't going to get any better, is it?"

"I doubt it. Y/N, listen, I've been looking at the file. Milwaukee schools start at 8:10 and they get out at 3:10. Every abduction has taken place within fifteen minutes of school getting out. Each body was dumped within fifteen minutes of the first bell. We could easily be looking at somebody who works in the school system."

"Okay, I'll try to make this look like Strauss' idea," you half-joke.

"Any idea how he's getting control of these women? Is he blitzing them or coercing them?"

"We don't know yet. All I'm getting is him dumping the bodies. Though, I'll let you know when I know."

"Okay, keep me posted."

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[choco-cherry-chunk]

Hmm picture this, a pregnant Beniot playing Among Us with a few celebrities in the living room couch. Philip is out doing his job of baking commissions for people (who are loaded and have a sweet tooth) so to get a lot of money for a big house. Beniot then sees a letter addressed to him and sees that it's an invitation to the Detective club he joined in Highschool reunion and he goes there without telling Philip ( the baker calls his husband to say he'll be about three weeks late due to the many back orders he has to do and decided to sleep at the bakery to get them done quicker). Beniot leaves, leaving a note and got all the stuff he needed for the trip to New Orleans. He meets up with a group of his old detective club and as they're chatting away, talking about what they did with their lives (one's an actor, another is a doctor, the third is an animal trainer and the fourth is a CEO of a company that helps make safe sanitary pads and tampons for women of all kind including those who are transiting to a man if they haven't gotten bottom surgery done), a scream is heard and a body is found by the gang. So Beniot decided he'll look for the killer, with the group following him around to help out as well.

My love. I am so utterly fond of this that I’ve taken forever to answer because I wanted to ensure it got the attention it deserves. It is so wonderful and perfect and fun that I would take a whole fic of it and read it over and over.

Benoit lounging around their apartment because he’s in the third trimester and he knows Philip wants him to relax and be careful, but he is so bored and unstimulated! His celebrity friends (this time - Tony Shaloub, Walter Mosley, Gillian Anderson, and Robert Downey Jr.) ask after him and the pregnancy, and he admits that while he’s eager to have the babies, he does wish things were a little decentered from them at the moment, especially since Philip is to be away for some weeks time.

When the invitation arrives, it’s written with an old cipher the group used back in the old days and he’s delighted to remember it and have the offer to visit. Nothing against your suggestion, but I think he would tell Philip about the trip and the man would hesitantly allow it, with certain restrictions about how he cares for himself during it (which he obviously neglects to some degree). After getting a doctor’s note to fly, he packs his bags and is off to New Orleans, invitation in hand. Also I’m just picturing a scene on the plane where he’s stuck next to some overly friendly person that keeps asking him about the pregnancy and putting their hands on his stomach in a mad intrusive way, but Blanc is just too polite to tell them off, lol.

He goes to meet the group at a restaurant and everyone seems quite happy to see one another. My cast for the group in my mind is Laurence Fishburne for the actor, Lucy Liu for the doctor, Hugh Jackman for the animal trainer, and Octavia Spencer for the CEO. They talk about their jobs, their families, how mystery solving has fit into their worlds. I imagine there would be some amount of jealousy over how Blanc was the only one that made a career out of it. But otherwise it is a lovely evening of old and new memories.

They end up trying to continue the night in Blanc’s fancy hotel (I’m picturing Maison de la Luz - look up pics, it would be perfect for this), only to get barely up to his room when they hear screaming from what turns out to be the guest house. They arrive to a body just before the hotel staff does and while the police are called, Blanc still offers his - and the group’s - expertise. So much for staying stress-free for the sake of the babies.

[the-bau-quinjet]

The Perks of Cold Weather

Hello! This is just a whole lot of fluff because I need some positive vibes this week. Feel free to send some requests my way if you’d like! They can be as specific or as vague as you want and I’ll do my best. None of my ideas are currently working for me.

Summary: Reader and Spencer have some fun in the snow in a small town in Alaska.

Words: 2996

Warnings: none I think

When you first started at the BAU, you were quick to realize the group was more like a family than coworkers. It was clear in the little things they did for each other on case, like the way JJ and Spencer would comfort each other on particularly difficult cases to the slight bickering that would inevitably start up between Derek and Emily about anything that didn’t really matter.

 You were quick to find your place in the little family as well. Well, not find it so much as fall into it, but you didn’t mind. You were only 28 years old, meaning you were the youngest member of the BAU. Being the youngest meant a lot of teasing from the “older sibling” personalities of everyone except Rossi and Hotch. Their personalities were much more parent-esque. With how much they’d tease you, you were always quick to jump on the chance to tease them for a change. The perfect opportunity arose when a case came up in Alaska.

Penelope walked through the bullpen, calling you all into the roundtable room right before you left for the day. “Hello my wonderful crime fighters. I wish I had better news, but this case is a real whammy. Three women have been found stabbed to death in a small town in Alaska.”

 The collective groans of just about everyone in the room were quiet, but obvious.

 “I know, I know. Another freezing cold case. I wish I could send you to LA all the time, but alas bad guys aren’t deterred by freezing temperatures.” She went on to explain the details of the case before Hotch dismissed everyone with his typical “Wheels up in 30.”

 The team dispersed to collect their go bags- and winter items for the cold weather they would surely be facing in Alaska- before meeting on the jet. When you got there, everyone else was already boarded, and you couldn’t help but feel the low energy of everyone on the plane.

 “Don’t tell me the lot of you are afraid of a little snow?” You can’t stop the smirk from appearing on your face as you sit down across from Spencer and adjacent to Emily, Derek, and JJ.

 “Big words from someone who hasn’t been on a case in Alaska yet.” Derek’s reply comes without hesitation. The grin on your face only grows when you realize that everyone really is feeling low because of the impending winter wonderland.

 “Don’t tell me you’re excited for the cold weather?” JJ shivers just asking the question.

 “Of course I am! I’ve always loved the cold. There’s something so magical about watching snow fall. It feels like Christmas!” The four of them stare at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You are seriously telling me none of you like the snow?” You scan all of their faces in disbelief, eyes landing on Spencer last.

 “Don’t look at me. I’m from Nevada, it’s basically the desert. Winter in Las Vegas is comparable to fall in DC. The last time it snowed with any significance was in 2003 and that was only an inch.” Spencer nearly starts rambling about weather patterns across the US, but cuts himself off.

 “You all are seriously killing my good mood with your bad vibes. I will change at least one of your minds by the end of this case” You say in a huff while putting your headphones on. You try to catch up on some sleep before you all reconvene to discuss the case.

 After the briefing and right before landing, everyone starts bundling up in layers upon layers of sweatshirts, jackets, coats, gloves, scarves, and hats. You pull a sweater on over your long sleeve and zip up your FBI jacket, adding a cute beanie more for aesthetics than warmth. You’ve never been one to get overly cold, so you skip a few layers everyone else put on.

 The rest of the team marches off the jet as if they would rather be anywhere else, but you don’t let it deter you. You exit the jet with a smile on your face, taking a deep breath of the cool Alaskan air.

 “You really are enjoying yourself?” Spencer asks with a small smile. You meet his eye, the look on his face giving you butterflies, before responding.

 “Of course I am. It smells like winter!” The two of you share a laugh as you get in the SUV headed to the police precinct to actually get to work.

 --

 The case only lasted two days. You were glad to have solved it so quickly, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss the snow. After the case files are all packed away and Hotch goes off to coordinate the jet, you head outside to absorb every last ounce of winter possible.

 “I thought I might find you out here.” Spencer sits next to you on the bench as you stare at the flakes falling from the sky.

 “What can I say, I just really love the cold.” You reply without turning your head. “Maybe it’s weird, but I would pick cold over hot any day.”

 “I don’t think it’s weird at all! I think it’s kind of cute actually.” That gets your attention and you turn to see he’s looking at his hands in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs. “I like how happy you are when you look at the snow.”

 Of course, that makes you smile again. “Thank you, Spence.” You can feel your cheeks heating up, but you’re quickly distracted by the sound of Derek calling the two of you back into the station.

 “Hey lovebirds, Hotch needs us.” You roll your eyes at Derek before standing up, offering your hand to Spencer to help him up. He takes your hand, squeezing it slightly as he rises from the bench. He only drops your hand when he goes to hold the door open for you, leading you back inside. The team gathers in the conference room, Hotch walking in with a grim expression.

 “I’ll cut to the chase. We won’t be able to fly home until this evening. The snow from last night on top of the storm that’s about to pass through is too much to clear right now.” Everyone, including you, sighs before nodding in understanding. As much as you would love to stay longer, you know it sucks that everyone can’t go home to their families. “This case is wrapped up, so feel free to just explore the town or relax in the hotel. We should be able to take off at 9:00 pm, so I expect to see all of you on the jet by 8:45.” Those words were music to your ears. As everyone begins to pack up to head out, you turn to Spencer.

 “I can’t believe this. It’s like a snow day! I’ve always loved snow days! We would always go outside, have a snowball fight, build a snowman, and try to build an igloo but end up giving up when it collapsed for the third time.” He chuckles at your enthusiasm, but nods along as you both walk out of the precinct toward the hotel just down the street. “Then we’d go in for lunch, make hot chocolate and cookies, and watch all our favorite movies.”

 “Is that what you want to do today?” Spencer asks as you both walk into the hotel lobby.

 “I mean, in a perfect world, yeah. That is exactly what I would want to do today.” You smile wistfully as you think back to your childhood snow days with your siblings.

 “Well then, let��s see how perfect we can make the world, just for today.” Spencer’s smiling as he says it, taking in the confusion and shock on your face.

 “You mean… You want to build a snowman? With me?” Your heart is beating so forcefully, you wouldn’t be surprised if it flew right out of your chest.

 “Yeah, and all the other things too.” Spencer’s words are soft and unsure, contrasting the confidence of his previous statement.

 “But you don’t like the cold weather…” You simply can’t fathom why he would volunteer to do these cold weather activities when just two days ago he was talking about how little snow he experienced when he was younger.

 “But you do, and we’re stuck here anyway. So, why not?” Hearing that he would spend his day off playing in the snow simply because you want to does things to you that you chose to ignore for the time being.

 “O- okay… yeah, let’s do it! ” The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before you each bring your things to you respective rooms with a plan to meet in the lobby in fifteen minutes.

 When you get to your room you pull out the warmest clothes you brought to Alaska. Although it would suffice for walking down the street, it’s not exactly made for playing in the snow. After getting dressed you meet Spencer in the lobby. He is dressed in warmer clothes than you, but still not snow proof.

 “I don’t know if this is a good idea…” Your excitement to start this day with Spencer has dwindled since imaging the cold, wet clothes you’d end up in. “The key to a good snow day is waterproof clothes and we definitely don’t have any. How am I going to make you like snow if you’re freezing and wet at the end of the day?” You would expect the resident genius to agree with you, but instead of a grim expression and a nod in agreement, Spencer’s smile grows.

 “Don’t worry about it. Just come with me.” He leads you outside of the hotel with his hand on the small of your back all the way down to the town store. “What needs to be waterproof? We can find snow pants, jackets, gloves, and boots right here.” He looks so pleased with himself as he leads you around the store to collect all the items you’ll need. He even picks out a sled for the two of you.

 After checking out, he leads you back outside where you pull the waterproof gear on over your warm layers, tossing the tags into a nearby trash can. Before you can say anything, he is again leading you through the town with his hand on the small of your back. He stops when he reaches the park, turning to you once again.

 “Where do you want to build the snowman?” You mirror the grin on his face as you run across the park to a flatter area.

 You begin compressing the snow in your hands to form the ball that would eventually become the bottom layer of your snowman. Spencer copies your actions, forming a lopsided ball for the middle. You leave Spencer to work on the head while you search around the nearby trees for sticks to use as arms and rocks to use for the eyes and buttons.

 After finding the perfect set of sticks, you return to see Spencer adding a carrot nose right in the middle of the head.

 “I didn’t even see you buy carrots!” He laughs at your childlike enthusiasm, moving aside so you can add the sticks to the middle. You also add the rocks you gathered for the eyes and buttons. Spencer surprises you again by pulling out a hat and scarf to add the finish touches.

 After forcing him to take a selfie with you and the snowman, you walk across the park to find a good sledding hill. You find the perfect hill, and offer to go down first since it’s going to take some effort to form the path. Spencer watches you scooching your way through the snow, forcing the sled down the hill, laughing hysterically. You haven’t been able to enjoy snow like this for years.

 Spencer was hesitant to sled down the hill together, but one pout from you and he climbed on right away. The sled picked up pace is you barreled out of control, flipping and rolling down the hill.

 You took the opportunity of a distracted Spencer to form a snow ball, waiting until he was only a few feet away to throw it at him. Of course, as soon as it hits him it’s game on. The two of you are running through the park, hiding behind trees, and dodging each other’s snowballs. Spencer, being uncoordinated, mostly missed you. That is, until the very end of the snowball fight when he hits you right in the face, the surprise causing you to fall to the ground.

 “Y/N! Are you okay! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He’s cut off by your laughter.

 “Relax Spence, its fine! It was powdery snow. It’s not like you hit me with a chunk of ice.” You smile at him as he helps you to a standing position. You’re so focused on standing up without slipping on the compressed snow beneath your feet, you don’t realize how close the two of you have become.  When you look up to meet his eyes, your noses are nearly touching.

 Without much thought for the consequences, you lean a few inches forward, ever so slightly brushing your lips against his.

 Spencer is so stunned, it takes him much longer than he’d care to admit to reciprocate your affection. So long in fact, that you’ve pulled away and are frantically trying to think of something to say to save your friendship when he pulls you back in.

 The two of you don’t pull away again until the need for air overpowers your need for each other. You stay close though, foreheads pressed together.

 “Let me take you on a date. A real one where we go into knowing it’s a date.” Spencer says it all in one breath.

 “Oh, Spence. This whole day has been a perfect date, even if we didn’t say it at first. But I would love to go on another with you.”

 The two of you are all smiles as you walk back toward the café near your hotel. You’ve been outside so long it’s nearly dark- granted it gets dark around 4:00 this time of year in Alaska. Upon entering the café, Spencer is quick to order two hot chocolates and cookies to go.

 “I know it’s not the same as baking them ourselves, but we don’t have access to an oven in the hotel.” He says, squeezing your hand before leading you out of the café.

 You would blindly follow Spencer anywhere, but that doesn’t stop you from asking him about it. “Where are we going now? I thought we were going to eat…”

 “Back to the hotel. We have one more thing to check off the list for your perfect snow day.” Of course he would remember your list from earlier in the day. “So tell me, what’s your favorite snow day movie?”

 “That’s actually a tough question. It changes depending on the mood.” You are genuinely trying to think of the perfect movie to end the perfect day as you walk back into the hotel.

 “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go up to your room and pick out a movie that fits ‘the mood’, and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes?” You simply nod in response, too lost in thought to contemplate where he could be going.

 15 minutes later you have finally picked out a movie to watch when Spencer enters your room, carrying a takeout bag.

 “I finally found a movie!” You smile at him as you show him your computer screen. Anastasia is queued on your Disney+.

 “Perfect. We can now officially start our date.” He smiles, pulling the food out of the bag, he hands you a cup of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Your heart warms at the sight of it. You know Spencer has an eidetic memory, but you still get butterflies at the idea of him remembering your favorite cold weather food.

 The two of you sit against the headboard, setting the computer between you to play the movie. After you’ve finished eating you shuffle around on the bed, moving the laptop so you could cuddle with Spencer.

 “I’ve got another reason for you to like the cold weather.” You state matter-of-factly, eyes still trained on the movie.

 “Yeah? What is it?” Spencer’s eyes are trained on your face.

 “It’s better for cuddling.” A small grin appears on your face at the sound of Spencer’s airy laugh. He pulls you closer, both of you completely content.

 --

 As much as you love the cold and snow, dragging yourself out of Spencer’s arms and into the cold air to get to the jet on time was not an exciting task. In fact, it put you in a slightly sour mood, something Morgan was all too quick to pick up on.

 “What’s the matter L/N? The cold weather got you down?” He laughs at your annoyed expression.

 “Not a chance, Morgan. I quite enjoyed our little snow day actually.” You smile at Spencer as you pull your blanket from your go bag and sit on the couch.

 “You actually played in the snow? It was only 22 degrees today!” You can’t help but shake your head. 22 degrees is cold, but nothing compared to how bad it can get in Alaska.

 “We did indeed. I think I managed to turn Spencer on to the cold weather too.” Spencer sits down next to you encouraging you to share your blanket.

 “How’d you manage that? I’ve been to on enough cases with Pretty Boy here to know he prefers the warmer ones.”

 “It’s actually rather simple.” Spencer replies, shifting his arm around you on the back of the couch. You smile as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Colder climates make for better cuddles.”

tag list:

@mac99martin​ 

[shurisneakers]

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave. 

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

__

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground. 

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up.  “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous. 

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

Next part

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

You will always be the winter soldier - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Author’s Note: 

This is a flashback of your past with Bucky. Somethings weren’t witnessed by Bucky or you because I just want to give more details about the thoughts of other people as well. So this is definitely written in a third person perspective. This chapter is really long but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. 

Bucky sits in a plane to Munich. Sam got information that the leader of the Flag smashers are currently working there. 

Bucky remembers the last time he was in Germany. It feels like an eternity ago.

„Tell me why I need to watch this series again.“, Bucky looked absolutely annoyed. 

„Its a classic. Everyone knows this series. It’s like general knowledge.“ You answered while scribbling something on your paper. 

„ And why aren't you watching this series?“ 

„Well my love, I know this series by my heart.“, you smiled at him and then saying the exact same thing the actor said on the screen proving him that you really do know this series.

Minutes later you closed your math book with a loud thump and throwing it on the ground. 

"I'm sorry. I don't want to torture you with this series. Maybe I can make it up to you." You winked at Bucky and kissed him on his right cheek. 

„Probably you will find a way.“, Bucky smiled mischievously and kissed you right on your lips with both of his hands on your cheeks. 

You and Bucky weren’t virgins but you both never had sex with each other yet. It made you nervous. 

And Bucky was nervous as well.The last time he had sex was an eternity ago and women changed through the times. Now women are so much more emancipated and strong-minded.

You kissed him. On his face, throat, neck and down his torso. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. 

In this night you and Bucky didn’t have just sex- you made love that night. It was something absolutely soft, and warm and caring about it. 

There was no much of talking and there was no pressure- it was just pure love without saying the word itself. 

Everything changed from that night on. From that day on you both were a couple, without labeling it.

Two weeks later Bucky accompanied you to university. It was something he did regularly and you enjoyed it. It gave your the feeling he was just a normal guy spending time with his girlfriend. And James from Bucharest was  indeed almost a normal guy. While you were bubbling about a math problem no one except math students could understand, he noticed a man.

Bucky knew when he was being followed and it agitated him. 

Now that he wasn’t just concerned with his life but also concerned with your safety it made him anxious. 

He grabbed your right arm and pulled you in a small alley.

You looked at him confused and scared. „What’s going on?“, you asked not understanding his sudden behavior. 

„I wanted to give this to you.“ Bucky pulled out a small mobile phone from his pocket. You looked confused because you already had a smartphone in your trouser pocket. 

„It’s a safe line. So, if you’re in danger or you just think you’re in danger- call me and I will come and get you.“

„You’re scarring me. Are you in trouble? Are WE in trouble? Do we need to run?“ You looked at him, touching his face to make sure he calmed down.

„No. Don’t worry. Everything’s alright.“ Bucky lied. „I’m just taking precautions.“

You doubted this reassurance.

„I can ditch university. I can come with you.“

„No. It calms me down to know that you’re safe at university.“ 

„Okay. But don’t forget: If you jump, I jump, remember?“ You quoted the movie you both watched last night. 

„You’re stuck with me. Where you go, I go.“

He kissed the palm of your left hand. „I’m not going anywhere.“, Bucky lied again. 

And with that he accompanied  you to university. As he left, you walked into your class and you took out your phone and your homework. You checked the latest news. The day before there was a bombing in Vienna but on this day there were breaking that there’s a picture of a suspect. The picture showed no other than Bucky himself. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn’t think clearly. This explained his behavior and fear. You knew he was innocent- no doubt about that. You knew the man you fell in love with and James would never do such thing. The only conclusion was that he was being fraud by someone else. You decided to skip the class and go home to find James. 

When you arrived outside, the campus was quite empty because the majority of the students were already in their classes. As you walked to the gate a man was calling you.

„Hey! Wait!“ He jogged to you. 

„You’re working with Bucky, aren’t you? You’re his accomplice.“ The man in front of you assumed. 

„None of your business.“, you muttered. You wanted to pass him but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. 

„My name’s Sam Wilson and you really need to come with me.“, he said, scarring you with his words.

His grip was so tight that you couldn’t break free.

„Im not coming with you. Who do you think you are?“

„I’m working with Captain America.“ He said. You could hear the pride in his voice.

„So? That doesn’t make you an authority. I don’t trust you.“

„You saw the picture, didn’t you? You saw the picture of him in the newspaper. You don’t strike me as a dumb person, yeah? You know what this picture means. They are after him. They are already here. So I need your help.“

„Why do you need my help? He’s innocent. That picture is fake and I know it. But do you? Do you believe in his innocence or what aim do you really pursue?“

Sam didn’t answer but he also didn’t let go of you. So the only thing that you could do was to kick him between his legs. But your head start wasn’t for long. You can’t outrun an athlete. He caught you with his hand which made you stumbled and you fell face forward on the ground. Your lip was bleeding. 

„Im sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.“

As you looked around you saw police officers pointing their guns at you and Sam. 

„You called the police?!“ You asked unbelievably.

„Ey. They’re pointing their guns at me too. So no- I didn’t call the police.“ 

They handcuffed you both and took off. Sam talked with someone via earpiece: „I’ve got her but the police got us both. I’m sorry.“

At the same time, Bucky, Steve and King T’Challa were also handcuffed. Steve looked at his childhood friend and shared the information Sam just gave him: „I’m sorry, but they’ve got her.“ 

To say that Bucky was furious was an understatement: He would burn down the whole city if they’d hurt her. 

When you arrived at the office in Berlin you couldn’t stop all the questions that were floating in your mind. „Why are we here? Since when is Germany responsible for crimes that happened in Vienna or Bucharest? Why were German police officers in Romania? What the heck is going on?“ You asked but everyone was ignoring you. 

Minutes later a man entered the room and you realized that this was Tony Stark. „Who is that?“ He asked, pointing his finger at you. You didn’t bother to answer him. You just turned your head away. „Alright. Kinda mean but we will get the answers anyway.“ He sat down next to Steve. „Is the thing you have with him even legal?“, he asked you again.

„You tell me. He was born in 1917. I was born 80 years later.“

Tony scrunched up his nose. 

The screen was turned on and you saw James. „Why is he in a cage? Why is there no lawyer? Is this how Germany practices its law now? Did you tell him his right to silence?“ You asked almost aggressively 

„You’re audacious and naive.“, said a man in a suit. 

„Stop insulting me. James is as innocence as I am. He wasn’t in Vienna and I told you that from the beginning. And no one in this damn room is listening. You’re just looking for a guy to take the blame. I don’t know how America treats their suspects but here in Germany they have human rights as well. They have dignity and they are still treated with respect and decency. All people have rights. We learned that 70 years ago and we will never ever forget it, understand?“, you spatted. „You imprisoned and treat him as if he’s a monster.“

„My dear child, do you know what he just did today in Bucharest? The damage he caused?“, the man screamed. 

„But it were you with the loaded guns, right?“

„He’s not just a suspect. He’s the delinquent.“

„In some countries there is a trial for this question to be answered, but you seemed to be hangman and judge in once.“ You provoked him. This was so unlike you that you really couldn’t understand the anger that was inside you. 

„I like her.“ Tony said. „She’s loyal like a golden retriever.“

„Stop insulting me even more. I’m defending the man I love that doesn’t mean I’m a puppy wagging its tail.“ 

Before anyone could say anymore to worsen the situation the power was gone for merely seconds but the power was back, Bucky disappeared from the video. Everyone in the room turned around and looked at you. 

„How are you going to explain this.“ Tony asked you 

„Kid, you stay here. Don’t even think about leaving this room.“ As Tony walked downstairs he asked himself if you’re related to a woman he met over 20 years ago who happens to have the same last surname like you did. No, unlikely. Almost impossible. 

Bucky, in his winter soldier mode only had one aim: to kill as many people as possible. But something was off. He hasn’t been the winter soldier for quite some time and the impact you had. The thought that you were hurt made him even more lethal. His priority was to find you and made sure you were okay. So everyone who fought him was a threat, an enemy.

It ended in a cafeteria where Bucky held a gun to the head of a seemingly important man. Bucky was circled with dozen of agents, all pointing a gun at him. 

„Where is she? Where is (y/f/n)?“ Bucky asked

„She’s okay. You don’t need to worry about her.“, Steve assured Bucky

„I don’t trust you. I need to see her.“ 

„We can bring her here. So you can see it for yourself.“ Steve suggested while Bucky just nodded. 

Steve and Tony ran upstairs and Tony grasped Steve by his arm. „What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t bring her downstairs to him. He’s dangerous and she’s just a kid. You can’t control him.“

„He isn’t dangerous and I don’t think he would hurt her. After all they are something like a couple. She knows him. And we will be there as well. Trust me, Tony. Nothing will happen.“

So they both accompanied you downstairs. 

You’ve got nervous, shaking uncontrollably. „You don’t have to do this.“ Tony said. 

„And I’m really sorry that I compared you with a golden retriever. I just think that loyalty is a great character trait.“

You smiled at him. „It’s alright. I’m sorry too. For being so angry and impulsive and arrogant.“

„Are you scared?“ Tony asks. „No, I’m not. I trust him. I trust the man I love. He isn’t the winter soldier anymore. And that he remembers me in this moment- that’s a good sign, isn’t it? So I had a little impact on him.“

Steve opened the door. You felt all the eyes of the agents on you. Thats really made you uncomfortable but you tried to ignore and only concentrate on James. You tried to relax. Your hands where cold as ice- something that always happens when you get nervous. You walked towards him. „You need to let go of this man, James.“, you pointed with your eyes at the man. „I’m alright. I’m safe.“ You approached him. „You really need to let go of him.“ Your voice was firmer. „The agents here are scared of you. They see you as a threat. So I’m begging you: let go of him.“ 

And Bucky let go of him. „They hurt you.“ He stated looking at your bruised lips. „No, they didn’t. I stumbled.“ You reassured him. „James, you need to put down the gun as well. The avengers aren’t the enemy. We can trust them. I do. I trust them and I think we might need their help.“ And you kissed him. Right in front of anyone. You heard the thump of the gun greeting the ground as James let go of it. 

You broke the kiss and caressed his cheek. But before Bucky could say anything you looked to your right and something you saw made you so scared. You pushed Bucky with all the strength you’ve got, making him stumble a few steps backwards. But that was enough to take his spot. 

Bucky saw the redness on your shirt before he heard the bang of the gun. Steve and Tony screamed „NO!“, but it was already too late. You looked at it and all the color of your face vanished. You started to fall but Bucky caught you, laying you softly on the ground. Soon you lost you consciousness.

Steve used the chaos to get Bucky out of there. „They will help her. But you need to come. It’s not safe for you here.“ 

During that time agent Sharon Carter kept Steve and Bucky informed but Bucky had a really hard time. „She’s still sleeping. You are not missing anything.“ She assured him. 

When you woke up you were greeted by non other than Tony Stark itself. He read a German magazine. „Do you understand what you’re reading or are you just looking at the pictures?“ 

He looked up and grinned. „Really nice pictures. But I also get help with the translating.“ He pointed to his high technology-glasses. 

„How do you feel?“

„Exhausted but okay.“ 

You looked around and you saw James standing in the door frame. „James“ you whispered, reaching out for him. „I’m so relieved that you’re fine.“ Bucky looked at Tony who faintly shook his head indicating that you were still oblivious about the fight in Leipzig and the separation of the avengers. 

„What happened after I passed out?“, you asked

„You mean after you got shot.“, Tony corrected you. 

„Why did you pack?“, you ask James, forgetting the last question you just asked. 

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to free me from the mind control and I’m gonna take that chance.“

„Take me with you. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine a life without you. Please, James.“ 

He looked you deep in your eyes. You could see how he’s debating on the inside. „Okay.“ And he kissed you passionately. 

Tony didn’t like that idea at all. „Okay, lovebirds. We better should look for a doctor to sign the release papers and you can rest a bit more.“ He ushered Bucky out of your room and when the door closed he let go of his facade.

„You can’t take her with you. Thats really selfish of you. She’s kid. She can’t throw away her life for you. She is not your psychologist. You know exactly what you are. You’re a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. You’re destroying her life. And you don’t care because after all you will always be the winter soldier. Nothing will change that.“

Bucky looked at Tony like he just got slapped. „I know who and what I am. I will never be good enough for her. Yeah, maybe I’m selfish taking her with me but I can’t imagine a life without her. I love her and I will protect her. I promise.“

„But can you protect her from yourself?“ 

As you packed your belongings James waited outside your room. „You don’t have to go with him. You don’t need to throw your life away. You don’t owe him anything.“, Tony stated. 

„I’m not throwing anything away. He’s my future. He’s anything I’ve ever wanted. Wakanda will be an adventure and I’m ready to take it.“

Tony suppressed all the things he wanted to tell you. He hugs you and said instead. „If he hurts you in anyway, call me. I’ll come and get you.“ He caress your hair and without noticing he took a single hair of you. He needed to know who you were to him. He couldn’t ignore his curiosity anymore. 

Chapter 6

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine @bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam @w-wolfhxrd @useless-creature-213  @angywritesstuff @supernaturalcat7 @harrys-stan @geek-and-proud

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Back By The Bay

(Story Post; Bonus Sketch At End)

Nathan took Reid up on his offer to go with him to see the bear man again. It was the first time Nathan had to take the kids on a plane and he had no idea what to expect. Just having one baby on a flight was enough to annoy some people, but two that could shapeshift? A whole new game. At the very least, they proved that they were more likely to stay human around strangers so Reid was happy to sit with both in his lap. They got very lucky and the twins napped for the whole flight and only cried when they were woken up to be put back in their carriers at the end of the flight. They promptly fell right back to sleep then. Once again, Nathan was nervous on the drive over. He’d asked Korsgaard if his son would be available to go with them, but while Korsy was in town, it was his day off, so the werewolf was stuck with Hanover again. Introducing the twins to their father just wasn’t something Nathan had expected to do for all the months he’d carried them. Kent simply hadn’t been calculated into his plans and now here he was about to meet them in person.

“Have some water, Nathan,” Reid offered to calm him down. “You look pale.” “I look pale?” Nathan retorted, taking the water anyway. “Well, paler than usual,” Reid said rolling his eyes. “You’ll be alright. You’ve dealt with Kent already.” “Not alone. Not without Dax,” Nathan said. “That’s why I’m here, laddie,” Reid said. “You’re not alone. You have nothing to be afraid of.” “I feel like this is a mistake,” Nathan said. “I keep wishing Dax was here. I can’t get him out of my head.” Reid smiled. “That’s alright. Sometimes you need time apart to really realise how you feel.” “But he cheated on me,” Nathan argued. “I shouldn’t feel this way about someone who would do that.” “You know my opinion on the matter and I won’t bore you with repetition…” When the van pulled up to the cottage, Kent was outside again waiting for them. Nathan got out first, carrying the twins strapped to his back and chest. He waved to Kent and the bear man came over. “…This is them…” Kent said, freezing in front of Nathan. “They’re here.” “Good afternoon to you, too,” Nathan said, a bit annoyed. “My week was fine. How was yours?” “Sorry if I don’t waste my time greetin’ you, I only just met my children for the first time,” Kent said. “My week was shit, just waitin’ to see them in person.” “First of all, language,” Nathan said. “Second, do not tell me being a decent human being to the father of your children is a waste of time, and third, I lied. My week was shit too.” “Oh, so I can’t say shit, but you can?” Kent growled. “Don’t growl at me in front of my kids!” Nathan said. “Now, now, boys,” Reid said coming over and placing his hands on the werewolf’s shoulders. “Let’s bring it down a notch, shall we?” “Now who the f—Rrr! Who is this?!” Kent said, pushing Reid’s chest making him step back. “You replacin’ celery stick already?” “No, no, it’s me!” Reid said, offering a hand. “Dr. Reid Gardi. I was the doctor who discovered Nathan’s pregnancy. We met briefly.” “I don’t remember you at all,” Kent huffed. “Ah… That’s fair,” Reid said, though he looked a little let down. “I had different hair and such…” Kent glared at Nathan. “You said it’d just be you and the kids.” “Yeah, well I didn’t want to come back alone,” Nathan said. “You haven’t done much to make me trust you.” Kent looked Reid up and down, scowling. “So, what’s your deal then?” “My deal?” Reid asked. “Everyone’s got somethin’ goin’ on.” Kent patted himself then placed a hand on Nathan’s head. “Bear. Wolf. Fuckin’ thunderbirds, aliens, and shit. What’s with you?” “Oh. Uh, I mean I’m just human,” Reid said. “But I research the paranormal and such…” “He used to fuck ghosts, something went wrong, and he pretty much died. He was brought back, now he looks like this,” Nathan said. “Does that answer your question?” Kent huffed. “Pretty much.” He looked down at Grace strapped to Nathan’s chest. “…Can I hold them?” “Oh. Sure… Let’s start with one, though.” Nathan took Grace out and let Kent hold her. She was still a bit drowsy from her nap and whined as she was moved, but once she was in the bear man’s big hands, she curled back up and closed her eyes. Kent smiled and held her close, moving the hair out of her face. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to hide the tears coming to his eyes. “Come inside.” Nathan let Reid go ahead of him so Kent couldn’t slam the door in his face. Once they got inside though, Nathan stopped in his tracks. Sitting on the couch waiting for them was Dax himself, looking incredibly nervous. “…Dax,” Nathan said. “Why are you here? When did you get here?” Dax got up quickly and opened his hands. “I only got here about a half hour ago, Kent and I only just talked briefly. And I am so sorry, I know you wanted a whole week apart, but I… I was scared, and I didn’t want to risk losing you and—” Nathan went up and hugged his boyfriend. Dax was shocked but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Nathan, careful of Gabriel in the back. He buried his face in the werewolf’s shoulder. “…I’m sorry. I missed you too much…” Nathan sniffled and pulled away a bit. “I am happy you’re here because I missed you, but how did you get here? Did you guys arrange this?” “Well, I… Actually, I called Kent, and I told him I wanted to come back because I think we still all need to talk, and he agreed, you know, reluctantly…” He looked over at Kent who had just sat himself down on the couch with Grace and was giving all his attention to her. “I made my own way up… Took a train.” “You paid yourself? APID didn’t help?” Nathan asked. “Well, no. I mean, they were only really supporting you seeing Kent since you have the kids together. I was just extra last time.” Dax frowned and took Nathan’s hands. “But I’m here because I don’t want to be extra. I love you, Nathan. I love you so much. I need you to know that.” Nathan stared at him and blushed. “I… Dax…” He looked at their hands together and he looked back up to him. “I love you, too.” Dax smiled and caressed Nathan’s face. “I’m so glad…” Nathan kept his arms around Dax’s torso. “I am really happy to see you here… But I think we all need to talk and be transparent… First though, can I talk to you in private?” Dax nodded quickly. “Yes, of course.” “Could you get Gabriel out for me and let Kent see him too?” Nathan asked. “Sure.” Dax got the baby out from the back carrier and handed him to Kent to hold. The bear man accepted him swiftly and set both babes in his lap to play with. “Reid, you’ll watch them, right?” Nathan asked. “Oh, aye. I promised,” Reid said, taking a seat in the armchair across from Kent. The bear man completely ignored him. “Also, hello, Dax.” “Sorry, Dr. Gardi. Hello,” Dax said. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” “No worries, and I am officially Nathan’s friend now which means we are friends too and we are on a first name basis, please,” Reid said grinning. “You have no idea how incredibly glad I am to see you here.” “Come on,” Nathan said, holding open the back door. Dax waved to Reid and then followed Nathan outside.

[barzzal]

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat. 

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?” 

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 

“Exactly.” 

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.” 

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 

“Come on, I know where we should go.” 

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 

“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.” 

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

[brockadoodles]

ho ho hopefully - t. seguin

AN: This is like... PURE fluff. Pure soft, Christmas themed, fluffy fluff with our resident idiot, Segs. But like, kind of what we deserve for Christmas, no? Totally based on the BEST Christmas song in existence, Ho Ho Hopefully, by the Maine. Tagging the seggy queen @texanstarslove​ in this one, since I think she’ll enjoy it. It’s a bit shorter than most, but let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2222

Warnings: None.

December first, I’m in a foreign state, I’m running late, I’m all alone, wishing I was home with you, baby.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have been a big deal to miss it. It was one year, objectively, you could start on December second, or third, or fourth, or all the way up until Christmas Day and it shouldn’t matter. But there was something about December first, how the first signs of Christmas would start popping up, with lights beginning to pop up on homes and trees slowly starting to be seen in the windows, families decorating together. You probably liked December first more than you even liked Christmas because something about that transitional time from autumn scenery into snow-covered streets that actually made sense was comforting, and with everything going on in your life as of late, the only thing you wanted was to be home on December first, with him.

Tyler knew that December first was special. He knew from the years of knowing and falling in love with you how your eyes lit up at the smallest things, like the first snowfall of the season, even though Vancouver rarely got snow. He knew from the way his own heartbeat faster around you that first year you insisted he help you with a tree, his own love for you he was trying to keep at bay trickling through to the surface. He knew that being home with you was inarguably the one thing you wanted, and there he was stuck in an airport lounge in Boston feeling the farthest away from you he could possibly feel on your favorite day of the year. 

Tyler looked out the window. His eyes were still as he watched the storm get worse and worse outside. Muffled airport announcements in monotone voices announcing delay after delay in flights. Boston was an eight and a half hour flight from Vancouver, and reality was settling in that his chance at maybe, just maybe making it to you with an hour to spare was steadily decreasing with each inch of snow that was falling onto the ground. 

Tyler knew when you started dating that it would be hard. The distance between Dallas and Vancouver was already a hurdle, but the added layer of his career and your own job made the relationship seem nearly impossible. It felt at times like you were two people dangling from a rope, trying to balance too many things at once simply just to be together. But he’d hear your soft voice on the phone, “I can’t wait to see you” murmuring from your lips and it made it all worth it, it made the time difference, the traveling, and the hardships worth it anytime you’d utter those words. 

He wasn’t even entirely sure how it happened, him falling so hard for someone who was almost always half a world away. Everyone in his life cautioned him against it, saying that there was no way it could work, you’re too different of people and too different of lives and it wasn’t rational. But Tyler didn’t care to be rational, because you were his best irrational choice he had ever made, and he knew he was lucky that he got to love you. 

Tyler held his head in his hands and tried to tell himself that it would be okay. He was still getting to see you later that month for Christmas and that was what mattered. But he also couldn’t help being unfathomably irritated at the bad weather that he couldn’t control, the watered-down shitty Dunkin coffee sitting next to him, and the repetitive cycle of delayed flight announcements ruining what was supposed to be an incredible surprise. The Stars had been in Boston finishing up a long road trip where they would now have two days off before a short home stretch of games. The timing had lined up perfectly so that if he flew straight from Boston to Vancouver, he’d get almost two days with you, one of which being your favorite day of the year. But now as he sat in the terminal, the hope of seeing you just kept dwindling bit by bit, and he was coming to the deafening realization that maybe it just wasn’t meant to work out. 

“Any news?” Tyler turned his head quickly at the voice coming from his left. Jamie sat down next to his teammate with a soft frown on his face. Tyler just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee, growing more irritated by the minute. The only thing getting him through it was knowing that even though his surprise was crumbling, you at least couldn’t be disappointed in it since you had no idea he was even planning to come in the first place. But what Tyler didn’t know was that Jamie Benn loved a lot of things, one of which being a classic romantic Christmas surprise, and you had been scheming up a surprise of your own. 

It was a last minute surprise, an idea that you had panickingly called Jamie over just the week prior. You had been going through what might have been the worst day you’d had in months, one of those days where every single event felt like the worst thing in the world. You remember curling up on your couch and crying as you looked through the calendar and Tyler’s schedule, trying to piece together how you could swing a surprise visit between their pre-Christmas packed schedule and your own lack of vacation time from work. It felt like the pieces weren’t fitting, and you were desperate to try. So that’s when you called Jamie, and he patiently combed through the practice schedule with you, helped you book a flight and promised to keep it an absolute secret from your boyfriend. 

The thing that Tyler didn’t know was that you were also sitting in an airport terminal with a shitty coffee in your hand, waiting anxiously for a flight of your own, the first flight of two that in six and a half hours time would land you back in the lone star state. The main difference was that there was no snow where you were, and all that you had to do was board the plane and show up, Jamie said he would take care of the rest. 

You had everything worked out, Jamie had made sure he wouldn’t suspect anything, his dog sitter knew when you were coming, and you had even packed a goofy Christmas sweater for him to wear while you hopefully decorated together. Long-distance with him was hard, but when the schedule seemed to allow for a quick visit, you gladly took what you could get, willingly ready to be tired from the flights even if it meant just a few hours with him. 

Each visit you found yourself breaking more and more when it ended, the days between were starting to feel dreaded. Your work was no longer enjoyable. It felt like you were stagnant in Vancouver, with most of your heart nestled safely in whatever city Tyler happened to be in that night. If you were honest with yourself, you knew that this was going to burn out, the distance was going to take its toll on the both of you, and sitting in that airport ready to go see him for the first time in a few weeks, you found yourself thinking for the first time about the idea of not coming back to Vancouver. 

Your phone rang in your hand, Tyler’s photo filling up the screen. You set your coffee down and slid your thumb across to answer, smiling slightly in excitement.

“Hey.” you hummed, hoping that your headphones would drown out any announcements about flights that were periodically coming through the speakers around you. The airport was busy, as was to be expected this time of year, but you had worked hard to keep this a secret from him and the last thing you wanted was a muffled airport announcement blowing the surprise fifteen minutes before you were set to get on a fight. 

“Hi, baby.” He sighed. You could tell something was off, you could always tell. You and Tyler knew each other so well, the distance between you forcing you both to pick up on things between each other. The things that were highs and the shifts in tone that indicated something was wrong, you both knew. You had memorized all of his little habits, from the typical stuff like how he preferred apples in his oats or how he had to nap at the same time before every game, to the things that people who didn’t know him didn’t have the privilege to see. Like the way he lit up when his sisters would call, or how he was really hard on himself, even when he shouldn’t be. You just knew him, all of his good things and all of his flaws and you loved him endlessly through all of it. You frowned slightly and opened your mouth to speak but he started before you could.

“I’m heading back to Dallas. Our flight was delayed, big snowstorm here.” He groaned. He hated that he was telling you this without entirely telling you why he was upset. But Jamie was next to him, and even if Tyler didn’t want to believe that he was right, deep down he knew the surprise wasn’t going to work, and as much as it sucked, he needed to just go back to Dallas and accept the fact that he would have to wait a few more weeks to see you not through a phone screen. 

“I just really fucking miss you.” He admitted and your heart cracked. You could hear in his voice how bad it was, and it only strengthened the feeling of stopping all of the distance between you altogether. 

“I miss you, too, bub. But, only a couple of more weeks.” You raised the tenor of your voice a bit, hoping that it would get him a bit excited about Christmas together. 

“Yeah, wish it was sooner, though.” 

You talked with Tyler for a few more minutes, tapping your foot slightly as you waited for your boarding number to be called. When you ended the call and boarded your flight, that feeling came back. The feeling of wondering if Vancouver could really truly be your home anymore when half of your soul was in Dallas. You spent the whole flight thinking about it, even though deep down you had no doubts about your decision. All it took to confirm it was his strained voice on the other end of the line, the pent of frustrations he was feeling about missing you just as much as you missed him. 

Tyler carried his bags through the entryway, exhaustion finally setting in right next to his already bad mood. Gerry, Marshall, and Cash came running up to him, excited to see him and lifting his spirits just enough as he greeted them and then combed through his mail that was sitting on the table. He tossed his bags down and kicked off his shoes, not wanting to bother with taking them upstairs yet. He knew that the dog sitter had left, he had told her when he was coming in. He was honestly looking forward to just relaxing on his couch, face-timing you, and going to sleep. He was supposed to be in Vancouver, walking up to your door and seeing you, and he didn’t have it in him to not sulk about that. 

He walked toward the kitchen, freezing a bit when he saw bags of Christmas decorations on the counter. He poked around, sifting through the various bags wondering who had dropped them off or if he had somehow placed an order for Christmas decorations that he forgot about. He got to one bag, a small brown one with a ribbon on the side. It was probably a gift, but when he saw the note with his name scribbled on the front he quickly opened it. 

We go together like the winter and a sweater <3 

He recognized your handwriting immediately as he opened the bag, pulling out a bright red sweater, laughing softly at the horrible snow-related Christmas pun that was screen printed on the front. He felt warm at how you somehow must have known he needed the pick me up. He kept combing through the bags, various ornaments, and knickknacks, and other decors were littered throughout them. He knew it was you, he wasn’t sure how you coordinated this but he knew you were the reason it looked like Christmas was about to throw up in his kitchen. He smiled a bit, his bad mood lifting when he realized what this probably meant. You probably wanted to decorate on facetime together, a compromise for not being able to actually be with each other and the idea melted his heart. 

Tyler walked over to the fridge, cracking open a beer as he unlocked his phone to call you. As the phone was ringing, the dogs started barking like crazy, running back from the kitchen to the front door. He didn’t think much of it until he nearly dropped his phone when he heard your voice. 

“Shh, shh, hi boys. Hi! Oh my gosh, hi Gerry.” You laughed, petting each of the dogs as you walked further into the house. You had takeout in your hands and were so focused on not dropping it from the dog’s excitement that you didn’t even realize Tyler’s bags were sitting against the wall in the entryway.

“You’re here.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, smiling big as he walked over to where you were standing. You were wearing one of his sweatshirts, his name sprawled across your back, a sight that he never grew tired of seeing and you were carrying bags of what appeared to be take out in your arms. You had slippers on and your hair up, an indication of how relaxed you were. He couldn’t help but internally groan, seeing how comfortable you were in his house, the one he wanted to be your home, too. You quickly set the food on the kitchen table, meeting him halfway. He pulled you in tight and you listened to his heart beating against your ear. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re really here. I was going to surprise you.” He whispered, tilting your head up to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, your heart already telling you what you needed to talk to him about. You didn’t have any doubts about it anymore. Dallas was where you needed to be. It was where Tyler needed you to be, and standing there in his kitchen with Christmas decorations littered all around you and him holding you like this, you were ready. Every buildup to this moment had led you here, in slippers in his kitchen ready to ask him to take another step with you, hoping that he’d grab your hand as he did so. 

“I’m really here. Jamie actually helped, he made sure I could get in and made sure you had no idea.” Tyler had never been more appreciative of his best friend. He should have known Jamie would have a hand in a surprise like this, this had secret softie Jamie Benn written all over it, and he adored you, often warning Tyler not to fuck it up with you. 

“Remind me to thank him, because wow. Best surprise ever, honestly.” He melted into you. He didn’t care if it was cheesy, or something straight from a bad Christmas movie. He’d watch 100 of those Lifetime movies because the feeling he was experiencing now with you in his arms was probably the exact emotion those cliche Christmas films tried to convey. 

“Tyler, I wanted to ask you something.” You said, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“Anything.” He kissed you once more, still in disbelief that you had pulled off a surprise when his had fallen so flat. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore, the missed calls, the flights, all of it. I just want to be here, all the time with you.” You smiled. Your stomach was bubbling with nerves as you studied his face for any reaction or reason that maybe he wasn’t ready for that yet. It would be complicated, figuring out how to actually stay in Dallas and be together. But a strenuous Visa application was the least of your worries if it meant that you’d finally get to be with him. Tyler grinned, picking you up and setting you on the table, kissing you hard as he stood between your legs. 

“Please tell me that means you want to move here.” He mumbled against your lips. You just kissed him once more. 

“There’s nothing else I want. Well I kind of want the food I brought, and maybe we could decorate for Christmas since it’s my favorite day, but like, definitely want to move here the most.” You laughed slightly as you spoke. Tyler just smiled at you, a breathtaking, heartfelt smile that made butterflies swirl around in your stomach. It was an exciting step in your relationship, and you couldn’t help but think about how much you loved December first again, this time for a new reason, because now it was the signifier in a new start with the person you loved. You didn’t care that it was only December first, because to you, this was better than anything you could have received on Christmas Day. 

[starrynite7114]

Happy Day 4 of Mayans week!

Let's dive into a character we don't explore often

Johnny "Coco" Cruz 💕

Ahem...

Imagine: You and Coco grew up together. The pair of you were the best of friends, inseparable right up until he met the woman who would eventually become the mother of his child. From there, you started studying hard in an attempts to get out of Santo Padre and into New York's best writing program. Coco on the other hand spiraled out of control, he was incarcerated and then later he enlisted into the marines. You kept tabs on him, but ultimately you focused on school. You got into the writing program of your dreams, you moved to New York and everything was perfect...so yeah, every now and then you had to ignore the voice in your head that told you that you missed Coco and should call him..but you leaned to cancel that voice out.

Every year for your parents birthday you would facetime them and send them a gift in the mail. As a huge editor to a very popular magazine, you couldn't afford to take time off. This year however, your father was sick, and you knew you needed to see him.

So you packed your bags, jumped on a plane and flew out to Santo Padre. The entire flight you were nervous and you kept fidgeting in your seat.

You had not set foot inside Santo Padre since you were 19 years old. You were in your early 30s now. So many things had changed, but deep down you knew in your soul that one thing remained the same....

Your love for Coco.

OH BOY. HERE WE FUCKING GO. 

You parked in front of your parents’ home, letting out a sigh. Driving through Santo Padre, memories hit you left and right, thinking of shooting the shit with your cousins, sneaking out to smoke some weed at the outskirts of town around a bonfire. Santo Padre held such sweet memories for you, but they were also bittersweet. You passed by the park where you and Johnny used to play as children, your love for him growing from there. You passed by the elementary school where you and Johnny held each other down during the third grade, shared lunch since Celia was the worst fucking mother. You passed by the middle school where you realized you had a crush on your best friend. You passed by the high school where you and Johnny eventually grew apart. 

Coco, it was a nickname you fondly gave him, a nickname you made for him and it just stuck. You can’t even recall why you called him Coco, but here you two were now, apart and strangers. But you had to do what you had to do. Seeing Coco with another woman was hard enough, knowing they had a child? It was even worst. But in some ways, you were happy for Coco, it was his chance to have a family.

Even though your family was essentially his. Your parents adored Johnny Cruz. He was always so good with them, helped your mother whenever he was over, learned the ins and outs of car mechanics with your father. He was essentially an adopted son, but when you pulled away, your parents respectively did as well. 

You were startled by the knock on your window. You looked to the side and found your father, looking frailer than usual, but a bright smile still on his face. You returned his smile and quickly got out of your car. Feeling your father’s warm embraced, it made you regret not coming home much more often. You weren’t obtuse, you knew your time with your parents were slowly dimming, it was the harsh reality of life. But you were going to make sure your father was going to be healthy so he could come visit you as he intended to later this year for Christmas. 

“How are you?” You questioned as you pulled away.

“I’m fine, your mother was overreacting. I had pneumonia, it takes the wind out of you, but I’m feeling better. I even helped Coco with this car he got for his daughter.” Your father froze at his words and he sighed. “You know we’ve been talking to Coco.”

And you did, your parents were always honest with you and when you left, they rekindled their relationship with Coco. They excused that one kid was out of the way, at least they still had their other. It made your heart clench when they said that, it was even worst when your mother wanted to update you about Coco, but you refused. No matter how much time had passed, your love for Coco was still ever present, but you figured it would.

He was your first love, and you never had closure. 

“Pops, thanks again.” His voice made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, you almost felt embarrassed how juvenile it was. “Leticia should be coming in a few hours, if she gives you shit let me know.” He couldn’t see you since your father was blocking your way. As frail as your father was, he was 6′4, 250 pounds, he covered anyone. 

“Coco, you know Leticia loves us, she can be like you, but we’ve done well with you.” Your father moved to the side and Coco’s steps halted, stopping at the middle of the street.

“Hello Johnny.”

😈

[lumosinlove]

Sweater Weather

part xvii

A/N:

Hey team!

I just want to pop in before the chapter to say a HUGE thank you to those who sent me letters!

Thanks to Hannah for your letter and O’Knutzy necklace! It’s AMAZING.

I want to thank Giana for your gorgeous letter (I’ll answer your questions in a separate post and I’m so glad you’re writing again!)

Thank you Kennedy for the painting, earrings, shark sticker (yay marine biologist!) and letter with the dried flowers :)

Thank you Alba for your SW art and your letter—yay to being there from the beginning!!

Thanks to Sophie for your kind words and letter!

Thank you Stephanie for your letter (and beautiful handwriting wow) and of course your gifts! I love the bookmarks and pin!

And last but certainly not least thank you to Alaena! I love that you included what asks you sent in XD and the STICKERS. I can’t decide if I want to put them on things or hang them all up on my bulletin board :) They’re incredible.

Thank you everyone, you’re all so thoughtful and kind!!

With SW ending soon (at least this fic, but this universe will never be over for me!) it is so incredibly lovely to hear what it means to you all. I feel so luck every single day that you guys love this team as much as I do. You thank me for this story, but I think the best part of fiction is that it expands and evolves differently in each mind it touches. Tumblr is such a freakin gift because I get a little glimpse into how you all think about these characters. So, I’m saying thank you to YOU. It’s truly a privilege to hear from you all. <3

If you feel like sending me anything, there is a link to my P.O. Box in my tumblr description! <3

Okay my mushy rant is done. Here’s chapter seventeen :)

~

Remus forgot his own birthday.

Lily had to remind him, bringing out a cake while he and Sirius had spent the day playing with baby Harry. Harry Potter. Harry James Potter.

The team adored him. Remus would never forget the sight of an entire team of hockey players, fresh off a plane, and crammed into a hospital room to peer at the small head of dark hair in Lily’s arms.

Minus one. Minus two, if what Sirius said was true, and Remus was part of the team. Remus had looked at the picture that Pascal had sent him from beside a sleeping Sirius and a heart monitor.

He had looked at the picture, and then at Sirius, and the relief doubled.

Four broken ribs. Bad, but it could have been worse. So much worse. A few days in Vegas to be monitored, just in case. Then, home.

Home for Remus’ birthday, home and in pain, but smiling none-the-less. Harry was a welcomed distraction from it all—the press, the hurt, the uncertainty. Lily seemed to know this without it needing to be said. Remus had told her she had enough going on without worrying about a cake, but Lily had just waved him off and cut them all large slices of the chocolate fluff.

Sirius, meanwhile, had somehow slipped a simple golden necklace around Harry’s neck, and when Remus looked down next, there it had been. A shining gold star pendant. The message had been clear. Sirius’ name-sake and Sirius himself—something to make a wish on.

Remus took a weeks off of work, all that he could.

Road-trips were a blur. Practices were anxious. The team was anxious.

March 27th.

Eight weeks. Sirius had been out for eight weeks. Resting, and stuck in his big house. Remus never thought he would be so thankful for Regulus.

“I’d rather be here than Slytherin any day, even though he whines like a baby when you’re gone.”

“Non,” Sirius would protest.

Regulus would raise an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

Remus would sneak into Sirius’ bedroom whenever he got home late, press one, two, three, four gentle kisses across his chest, and take his place on the other side of the pillow, carefully placed so that Sirius didn’t roll over during the night.

Sirius whined a good deal about that, too. And getting back on the ice.

“I just…I want to be back in case we make it to…” the playoffs.

The team was close. So close.

Sirius had only recently been allowed to come to the rink, suit and all, for home games to sit in the team box. It was strange, looking up from the bench at the jumbotron and seeing the image of Sirius there, standing with his arms crossed, sometimes with a beanie on, making his eyes look intense as he focused on the game in front of him. He was completely unreadable—to everyone but Remus. Remus could tell when he was happy with the team’s playing, when he was annoyed at their opponents. The internet was crawling with gifs of Sirius’ stormy eyes. Remus had more than a few saved, and they frequented the team group chat.

Remus looked up now, but all the jumbotron was showing was James, who had been taking lead in Sirius’ absence, talking quickly to Finn. Remus could see his own legs in the background.

The Stars were up 4-1, and there was ten minutes left in the second period. If they won this game, and they won the next game, they were in. And Sirius would be back the week after that—hopefully in time for the first playoff game, and not for an all-too-long summer vacation. Although, honestly, right then, Remus thought Sirius deserved either one. A chance at the Cup, or a break, a chance to rest up. To be together.

Leo was in net, Kasey resting up his thigh that continuously bothered him. Leo was skating a slow circle after the Stars scored yet another goal, tracing the blue crease with his stick. Remus could practically feel his furious calm.

“Big Rig may experience different weather up there, but he sure as hell has more gravity. Tremzy,” James knocked his helmet with his glove. “Don’t let him catch you, eh?”

“We gotta come back from this shit,” Finn said as he followed Logan over the boards. “For Leo. Leaving him out to dry out there. No.”

“For Cap,” Thomas said, coming back over the boards and breathing hard.

“Gotta put my baby in that silver crib!” James followed his wingers, a center for now.

“Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, be ready,” Coach called. “You’re on deck.”

“The oven is hot tonight,” Elias Cook said, pouring water over his neck.

“Stop saying that,” Kasey shook his head. “Jesus.”

“He can’t help the heat, Baby Bliz,” Thomas said.

Kasey just shook his head and looked back to the game.

Remus leaned in over Thomas’ shoulder. “That was a hit, Talkie, you good?”

“I’m hot,” Thomas said around his mouthguard.

Remus snorted, patting his shoulder pad. “You sure are.”

James lined up for the face off, Finn and Logan jostling against Benn and Perry. Logan dug his skates in when the ref dropped the puck and James whipped it back to him. Logan darted forward into the Stars’ zone, tailed closely.

“C’mon, Tremz,” Remus murmured.

Logan shot the puck off to Finn who got battered against the boards almost immediately by Benn, but got it smoothly to Olli, who sent it sailing back towards the Stars’ net. James was there behind the crease, Khudobin pushed out the wrong way—

James curled it in from behind and the Gryffindor goal horn blared.

“Fuck!” Thomas rose to his feet, knocking his stick against the boards. “Atta boy, baby-daddy!”

4-2 until the buzzer sounded and they were heading back down the tunnel. Remus glanced up at the screen one more time, and only just caught Sirius, smile plastered on as he was shown shaking the hands of a few older men. Remus suppressed a smile, and followed the team off of the ice for second intermission.

The locker room was subdued, and Sirius came in while Remus was crouched by Logan, taping up a jammed finger. He walked up to Coach first, leaning his elbows on the podium where he controlled the projector. Remus watched as he pointed to a few of the plays drawn up on the whiteboard, Coach nodding along.

“I can do this,” Logan said. “Leave with your moon eyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but tore off the tape and rose. “You’re all set. Try and keep it safe during third.”

“Oui,” Logan said, already sliding his headphones back on. Finn rose to get a fresh jersey, brushing a palm over the back of Logan’s neck on his way. Logan’s eyes followed him as he went to Leo next, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees in his stall, head down and airpods in. Finn squeezed himself in beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned in to press a few kisses to his neck, murmuring soft words. Leo closed his eyes and pressed into him.

“Hey.”

Remus turned away from the two to meet Sirius’ eyes. He was smiling, a good break from the grimace Remus had become used to.

“Hi,” Remus said and pressed a hand over the familiar bandage, thick beneath Sirius’ suit and shirt. “Feeling okay?”

“I’m good,” Sirius leaned down, right in the locker room, and kissed him. His mouth was gentle, leisurely. “I feel good.”

Remus smiled into it, and took his hand. “Good. Come on.”

Sirius followed him, hand in Remus’, into the training office.

“Ten minutes until show time,” Remus said in the dim space and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Are you really feeling okay? Been on your feet for a while, I’ve been watching.”

“Loops, I come back soon. I’m healed, I’ve started light exercise. It’s just a matter of insurance.” Sirius leaned into him, lips brushing his. “You seemed to think I was fine last night.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah, I definitely think you were fine last night.”

Sirius smiled, but then his expression turned more grave. He bit his lip, and ran his hands up and down Remus’ sides a few times, almost as if to comfort himself. “Fuck, I want this for the team so bad.”

Remus nodded. This was a conversation they had been having more often than not. “I know. And they know. You want it for them, but baby, they want it for you. They’re out there doing their fucking hardest for you. I don’t think you should start preparing for the worst. Not yet. Hockey’s a fast game.”

“We’re just—we’re so close. And fucking Grayback and…and if we win this game, we just have to beat Vegas again and we’re in. And I won’t get to fucking be out there because of fucking Grayback. And he’s not even suspended anymore—”

Remus kissed him, and Sirius mumbled for a moment into it before relaxing.

“Two games,” Remus said. “Home. Then Vegas. We beat Grayback, take a chance at the cup away from him. That’s the best we can do.”

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. “How are you so okay with all of this?”

“What’s the alternative? Obsessing over him? He’s not worth it. At all.”

They looked up at the sound of the team noisily making their way back down the tunnel, shouts and whistles, trying to psych themselves up for a come back.

“Third,” Remus said, then tucked his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him again. “You’re competitive. I love you for it. But, baby, you’ve already beaten him. You beat him a long time ago.”

Remus kissed Sirius’ slowly smiling mouth again and again before rushing out the door.

Sirius made his way back up to the box. He watched the other members’ eyes follow him as he slipped back into the private room. There was an absurd array of food and drinks on a table, designed to impress members and investors. Sushi rolls and miniature hot dogs, popcorn in Lions colored cardboard boxes. Red-frosted cupcakes and lion head cake-pops. Sirius took a cupcake. He’d already beaten Grayback. Remus had just kissed him. His ribs had healed well. It all called for a cupcake.

“Really letting yourself off, eh?”

Sirius looked up at a man. He was wearing a white collared shirt under one of Sirius’ jerseys. Obviously a fan, obviously nervous, obviously important given the way one of the managers was looking at him talking to Sirius.

“No,” Sirius said plainly. “I’m having a cupcake.”

There were laughs from around him, as if Sirius was the funniest guy in the room. Sirius didn’t feel funny. This guy was making him miss puck drop.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Mike. Real doozy you slapped the world with.”

Sirius took it tightly, cupcake in his other hand. “I wasn’t aware that I did the slapping.”

“Probably broke a lot of hearts though.”

Sirius looked at Mike the way he looked at opponents on the ice. He watched him blink, watched his body language change.

“I was thinking about my own heart. Désloé, how do we know each other again?”

“Oh. Well—”

“Right,” Sirius nodded. “Enjoy the game.”

Sirius walked towards the box’s edge, unwrapping his cupcake. He could see the entire stadium from up here, the teaming mass of red and gold, the team readying themselves on the ice. A tiny glimpse of Remus on the bench. Coach was gesturing and talking. He watched his own face on the jumbotron as he took a bite of the dessert. He found the camera and flashed it a thumbs up, waving his arms upwards and listening to the crowd’s cheers roar in time with his hands. He caught glimpses of rainbow flags in the crowd, signs with number twelve decked out in the colors. It was a nice contrast to the signs that Sirius saw on his way into the stadium. Defaced number twelve jerseys, slurs, people jeering at his window as he drove through security. Interesting, to see who was inside, and who was not.

The puck dropped and James won it. James who, despite them being down, was hot tonight. No doubt riding the adrenaline of Harry and Lily at home, of being named temporary captain, of being so close to what they all dreamed of.

Sirius couldn’t think it, not even in his head.

The puck seemed to be frozen in the central zone, both teams battling too hard. A stalemate in aggressive trench warfare. Back and forth, back and forth with no progress. Sirius crumpled the cupcake wrapping between his fists and cupped them together, shoulders tense.

“Allez…” he whispered to himself.

The camera was on him again, and he looked stony even to himself. He raised his eyes to it and pointed a finger down at the game. Show that, he mouthed.

The Lions goal horn blared. Logan had scored.

Sirius knew the camera caught his reaction on camera. He put his fists up, relief bubbling out of him in a shout.

“Allez, Tremzy!”

The crowd was going wild. Finn slammed Logan into the boards in celebration and the jumbotron replayed the beautiful tip-in. 4-3. Things weren’t so impossible anymore.

Sirius squeezed the wrapper in-between his hands again and set his elbows on the ledge.

“Play Kuny, play Kuny…” Sirius muttered under his breath. He would match Oleksiak. Sure enough, Coach sent Kuny’s line over the boards a second later. Nado and Evan Kane followed him, Fox and Sunqvist on defense.

“No power plays,” Sirius prayed. “Come on, Nado, no stupid penalties.”

“Do you always talk to yourself in French while playing?”

Sirius stiffened. Mike was back.

“Non, parfois je parle en russe.”

Mike blinked. “What?”

“Laisse-moi tranquille, homme intrusif,” Sirius grinned sharply. “I said only sometimes. Usually on the bench.”

That seemed to make Mike happy. “Hey, you’re really superstitious, right?”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

Like being alone in the team box, Sirius thought bitterly. Like getting a blowjob from my boyfriend before a game, you know, that doozy I slapped the world with?

“There’s a lot of them,” Sirius said. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to watch this.”

Mike nodded quickly. “Oh, of course, of course.”

Sirius shifted away a little when he didn’t move, tried to focus on the ice. The puck had dropped and it was on Evgeni’s stick. He was carrying it quickly up the ice, seeming to cut through the players with his broad shoulders. Sirius imagined he could hear his deep voice, calling for Nado to look alive. The pass connected, but Seguin tapped it out of Nado’s hands from behind and sent it up the ice quickly to Benn.

“Merde,” Sirius said. The Lions were changing and then it was Pascal’s line with Elias and Brady, Olli and Timmy on defense. Benn managed to get around Olli, and then—

Leo was pushing far out of the crease and aggressively jabbed the puck right from Benn’s stick and onto Pascal’s waiting one. Leo slid back into the crease like a water snake. The stadium was chaos.

Knutty, Knutty, Knutty, was the chant. It filled the air itself. The jumbotron showed the bench briefly, Logan and Finn and Thomas grinning up at the stands. Pascal still had the puck.

His solid form darted up a clear channel, catching the Stars in a slow shift change. He was in front of the goal, Sirius squeezed the wrapper between his palms. Pascal faked by lifting his left leg, Khudobin went for it, and Pascal slid it right between his pads, neat and tidy.

They tied the game. They tied up the game. Sirius pushed back from the railing with a long breath as a TV break began. The Lions ice crew came out to some pop song and began their sweep. Sirius looked down at his bench and yearned to be with them. He rubbed his hand absentmindedly over his ribs. They were healed. He had a few more sessions with Remus left and then he would be back. He would be back.

He thought of the hit.

He hadn’t known what was wrong. There had been no air in his lungs. But Remus had been his first thought. He knew who hit him, he had seen his face before he hit the ice.

Remus.

This would hurt Remus.

“Wait, has a what?”

His own voice over the jumbotron drew him out of his thoughts. It was a pre-recorded interview, one of the fluff ones that they played for fun to entertain the crowd.

Marlene’s voice from off screen repeated the question. “Which one of your teammates has a life-sized Stormtrooper, R2-D2 and C-3PO action figure in their apartment?”

They showed his own face again, laughing and thinking. “Oh. Um.”

It switched to James, arms crossed and actually thinking about it. He pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed. “I don’t know, Finn and Leo? That seems like a weird Harzy thing.”

It cut to Finn. “That’s not weird. I wish it was me. I’ll convince Nut, don’t you worry.”

Pascal looked unimpressed, sitting easily in the chair. “There is only one person this could be, and that person spent the first two months of his time in the U.S. with only the phrases, You’re my only hope, and I’m your father, to his vocabulary. Oh, and the word no.”

Sunny was laughing. “I know exactly who this is.”

Nado looked pained. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen Star Wars now? Do you have any idea?”

Finally, the screen cut to Evgeni, smiling, tongue jokingly between his teeth. “Good for English, you know?” He held up his hands. “I am Force.”

The video ended with a swoop of the Lions’ logo, and even Sirius could help but smile. There was eight minutes left in the period.

Eight minutes to pull ahead.

They would do it.

The Stars had called a time out, and so James, Logan, and Finn were milling around the ice together, keeping their muscles warm. Leo was looping around the goal.

They were ready.

Seguin faced off against James, both of them leaning forward.

Seguin won it.

There was a fleury when James was pinned to the boards by Oleksiak, but Logan was there to steal the puck from beneath his feet.

The clock had dwindled down to four minutes when a whistle blew with a slashing penalty on the Stars. Pascal and Thomas joined James on the ice for the power play unit.

Sirius could feel the energetic restlessness of the crowd. They all knew what this could mean. Sirius let out a shaky breath and looked at the wrapper in his hands. He thought of Remus. Remus, and his long list of superstitions. But what pulled him through had been himself. Sirius held it anyway, but he held his Lions closer.

They were ready.

They set themselves up in a triangle, a tic-tac-toe, in front of the Stars’ goal. The sent it to each other quickly, boxing the defensemen in. Finally, James got it to Evgeni, who slapped it with a one timer and—

The goal horn. 00:24 seconds remaining.

The crowd was already singing with victory. The Stars tried for one last push, but Leo snatched the puck right out of the air with his glove.

00:03.

Done.

Sirius pushed his hands through his hair in relief. “Merde.”

Sirius was out of the box before anyone could even think about congratulating him, jogging down the private staircase and towards the locker room. He made it to the player’s hallway before he was stopped by a smiling Alice.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Can we just get a few questions in?” She gestured over to where Marlene was standing with a microphone, talking to a dark haired girl holding a camera. Alice raised an eyebrow. “It’s only Marlene.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Alice patted his arm. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said and shoved his hands into his pockets while looking at Marlene expectantly.

“Okay, McKinnon, let’s go.”

Marlene scoffed. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Cap, how are you? Ribs, mind, in general.”

Sirius relaxed a little. If he had to do interviews, he preferred Marlene above all else. “I’m healing well. Ready to get back on the ice.”

Marlene narrowed her eyes at his short response and he smiled. That made her smile. Those were rare for the press, and she had just caught one.

“Any thoughts you want to share about how the majority of the world is responding to you lately? By my calculations, you’re quite the icon and inspiration—not that you weren’t before of course.”

Sirius laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Um,” he cleared his throat. When he looked up he could see Remus down the hall a little ways. He was talking to Kasey who was still fully dressed. Remus looked beautiful and strong and…And Sirius just… He hated questions like this but he just—

“Someone is always going to find something wrong with you,” Sirius said. “With what you say. With what you do. My job is not to please, you know? My job is to play hockey, sure, but, really, my job is to be the person I want to be, do the things I believe are right, do the things I love. With the people I choose to love. I think that’s everyone’s job,” Sirius found Remus beyond the cameras again, along with everything he had ever wanted. He looked back to Marlene. “That took me a long time to learn. They say, have a thick skin and an open heart. Before, all I had was a thick skin. Now, I’ve found someone who can help me have both. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that.”

~

“And that was an interview with a surprisingly heartfelt Captain Sirius Black,” Lee Jordan broke off in a laugh. “Earlier this game we also got to see him telling the cameras, show the game, show the game. Pointing down at the ice. Outstanding. That’s a layer of the Captain that I don’t think we see very often. From what I hear, the dude’s funny, though, Dean. Now, let’s take a look at the Lions’ top scorers. With the Captain out, that would be Logan Tremblay, James Potter, and, that’s right, one of the oldest in the league, Pascal Dumais…”

“What is that?” Remus said, appearing in front of Sirius where he was waiting in the PT room and drawing his attention away from the television. Remus peered at his hands.

“Oh,” Sirius felt himself flush as he looked down at the cupcake wrapper, more like a tiny ball of oily paper now. “I was holding this when Logan scored, so…”

Remus laughed. “So, you had to hold it the entire period. And now it’s practically falling apart. You’re not keeping that.”

“But it—” Remus grinned as Sirius surrendered the wrapper. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Remus said, and Sirius looked up. Remus was flushed from the game, eyes bright with the win. He leaned up and kissed him hotly, then softly. Sirius had to blink a few times when he pulled away. 

“You always had an open heart,” Remus said. “That’s obvious to anyone who knows you. Who loves you.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Someone cleared their throat. “Sorry…”

They looked up to see Kasey, now in just some basketball shorts. “Hi.”

“Hey, Bliz, I’m ready for you,” Remus said, then looked up at Sirius. “I can get the subway back if you wanna go home to Regulus.”

“Non, non, I’ll wait,” Sirius said, and bumped fists with Kasey on his way out.

Remus smiled after him for a moment, then at Kasey. “So, thigh?”

Kasey nodded, eyes shifting downward, then back to Remus again. “Yeah.”

Remus paused, brows drawing together. “Kasey, are you—”

“Hey, Kase?” Natalie appeared in the doorway. She had her long blonde hair drawn back in two dutch braids and a Blizzard jersey on over a gray sweatshirt with the hood spilling out. Her smile wasn’t as bright as usual.

“Hi, Remus,” she said. “Baby, I’m gonna go say hi to Marlene. Just text me when you’re all set okay?”

“Hi, Nat,” Remus said slowly.

Kasey nodded, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Okay.”

He hopped up on the table and lay on his back while Remus got ready.

“Just the thigh that’s bothering you?” Remus said carefully. He pushed Kasey’s shorts up his thigh to get at the tense muscle and carefully began kneading the muscles. The post-game played softly on the television while Remus waited for Kasey to speak.

“Will it always be like this, Loops?” Kasey asked quietly after a few moments.

Remus looked up at where Kasey was reclining on the padded table with his fingers across his chest. Remus, if he was being honest with himself, had been waiting to have this conversation with Kasey for a while.

Kasey looked back at him. “It acts up more often than not. I can’t play if I can go down, I…I can’t—”

“I know,” Remus said softly. “I know, Kase. Look.” Remus moved down to his knee, smoothing the muscle firmly. “This injury…it’s a tough one. It takes a long time to heal. It takes time and endurance. So, my answer is no. It won’t always be like this. It just takes time.”

“What if I don’t have time?” Kasey’s voice was even quieter. “I’m a goalie. Sometimes we have less—”

“Kase,” Remus looked at him. “You’re twenty six years old. You do.”

Kasey groaned as Remus pressed his knee out to the side, loosening the muscle slowly. “Fuck.”

“We’ll do some strength training next practice, okay? We’ll make a schedule, I’ll work with you. And we have a day off tomorrow. I’ll send you some videos to do at home if you want, or you can rest.” Remus smiled a little. “Or Natalie can help you stretch.”

Kasey smiled and it seemed easier. “When you say stretch…”

Remus laughed. “That’s the point. Look, you will heal, but you also have to enjoy the rest of your life. Hockey’s everything, and not everything at the same time. I’m gonna give you some salve, okay? And then you’ll be good for the night. Rest.”

Kasey nodded. “How’s Cap doing?”

“He’s okay,” Remus said, warming up the muscle salve between his palms. “Wants to be out there with you guys.”

“We want him there,” Kasey sat up on his elbows and watched Remus’s hands. “What about baby Black?”

Remus snorted. “Good. I mean, happy he’s here. The whole Snake runaway thing is sort of up in the air. The Snakes have their lawyers on his ass about his contract, and Minnie thinks he might have to go public with some pretty horrific stories to prove that they breached it.”

“Horrific stories…”

Their eyes met somberly. “I know.”

“Jesus,” Kasey sighed as he sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down at his leg. “That feels better. I…I feel better.”

“Good. Try and stay off it as much as you can, okay? Nat loves you to death, don’t tell me she won’t get you what you need.”

“Oh, she will,” Kasey smiled and eased himself carefully off the table. “Thanks, Loops.”

“Bliz,” Remus said, and Kasey turned to look back. “You have time and life and everything else. Really.”

Kasey nodded. He smiled a serious sort of smile. “You’re right. I get in my head.”

“You’re a goalie. That’s part of the job.”

Kasey laughed, flipped him off, and closed the door behind him.

Sirius was waiting for him on one of the couches in the player’s lounge, eyes closed and beanie on his head. His shoulders looked broad in his dark winter coat and suit.

“Hi, handsome,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius with his hands resting against the back of the couch on either side of his head.

Sirius’ eyes opened and he smiled. “Salut.”

“Ready to go home?”

“Regulus says he’s out with Leo. Day off and all that,” Sirius tilted his chin up, silently asking. “House to ourselves.”

Remus pushed himself back upright. “Let’s go.”

~

“I’m glad Regulus had Leo,” Remus said as he stood in Sirius’ massive but mostly empty closet. He picked out one of Sirius’ t-shirts and sweatpants and pulled them on. “They’re both eighteen and both have a lot of pressure to deal with, even if it’s, you know, different pressure. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Sirius said as he came back into the bedroom from the bathroom. His torso looked lean in his his sweatpants, the bruising finally faded. "And thankful to Leo. He didn’t have to reach out, you know?” Sirius collapsed onto the bed with a smile, bouncing a little. “Now, let’s stop talking about my brother.”

“Nope, no bed yet. Come on.”

“Loops.”

“You want to play next week, you do this with me now. Let’s go.”

Sirius let Remus wrangle him downstairs and into the gym. Sirius put on some music and then Remus lay him out in just his sweatpants on a soft mat and led him through the breathing exercises and some of the light core work that was on his recovery plan. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, the two of them laughing as his hands wandered to Remus’ hips. Remus had to admit that, now that Sirius wasn’t in pain, watching him spread out on the mat like this got him. His softly moving chest, his hard muscles, the shadowed curl of his hair on his temples. He let it get him, there in the privacy of Sirius’ basement. Sirius noticed.

He smiled the next time he raised up in a crunch, abs working, hands behind his head. “Maybe I could use some incentive.”

Remus raised an eyebrow from where he was by Sirius’ bent knees. “Oh?”

Sirius pushed up and held there until Remus bent so he could kiss Remus lightly, then lowered back down.

The next time he came up, he brought Remus down with him. He parted his knees so Remus could settle between them. Sirius’ chest was warm from the exercise, his heartbeat even. Remus sighed into his kisses.

“We should go easy, we have the party at Pascal’s tomorrow—”

“I’m perfect,” Sirius said, and rolled them gently so that Remus was on his back now, Sirius hovering over him. “I feel perfect. I want you so bad.”

It had been a bit of a challenge. They’d been on strict no-sex orders, given to them rather sheepishly by Sirius’ doctor while he was still in the hospital. It had been a lot of Remus trying to sneak a quick jack-off in the shower, trying not to make things harder on Sirius, only to come out of the shower to a glowering, turned-on boyfriend.

Getting the all clear had been spine-melting, and it had sort of been that way ever since. Still, sex was few and far in between. Regulus was in the house more often than not, and even if it was a big house, Remus didn’t think it was the best idea to invite him to stay only to sneak off to Sirius’ bedroom.

Regulus had received the message quickly though, and told them clearly enough when he would be out for a while.

Remus shuttered when Sirius’ hardening cock dragged across his own.

“Fuck, are we really doing this in the gym?” Remus panted out a laugh. He was already so turned on that it ached. His dick pressed insistently against the band of his sweatpants, and when Sirius next dragged his hips down, the loose fabric pulled away to expose the shiny head of his cock. Remus moaned. “Sirius, fuck…fuck, I—”

“No lube,” Sirius said. “Shit, I…”

Remus just pushed Sirius’ sweatpants down over his ass, making his cock fall free, bobbing and stiff, and tugged his own sweatpants down until his hips and thighs were exposed. Remus pushed their hips together, mouth open. It was plenty wet, Sirius cock already beginning to shine at the head.

Sirius fucked his hips forward steadily against Remus, the friction making him squeeze his eyes shut. Remus felt Sirius’ lips against his neck, and wrapped his arms around him. He felt sort of frantic with it, lazily happy with how much he loved this.

“Love you,” he murmured as Sirius pushed forward with a well-aimed thrust. “Fuck, baby, yeah…”

“Not bad for a core workout,” Sirius said into his skin.

Remus laughed, even as pleasure sparked at the edges of his vision. His cock felt heavy and sensitive against his stomach.

“Don’t overdo it,” Remus said. “Here.”

Remus pushed at Sirius’ shoulders until Sirius groaned and rolled onto his back.

“I’m fi—”

His complaints died on his tongue when Remus pressed up all along his side, cock trapped between them, and wrapped a hand around Sirius. He kept his strokes even and tight, running his fingers down over his full balls, the vein on the underside. Sirius was hot in his hand, precome thin and leaking over the back of Remus’ hand. Remus kissed Sirius, tongue sliding into his mouth, and more heat trickled over his fingers. Remus felt like he could come just like that. It was almost—surreal. He was so turned on, especially for not even having done that much. He had just been taking Sirius through his exercises one moment, and then Sirius had taken him between his thighs and he was done for.

“Re, let me,” Sirius breathed, and his fingers found his own cock for a moment before wrapping around Remus’ shoulders to reach behind him, rubbing over the swell of his ass.

Heat pooled in Remus stomach and made his hand stutter, gripping Sirius tighter. “Fuck, yes…”

Sirius’ fingers were soft and slow as they worked their way inside of Remus. It was a little dry, but Remus let his temple pitch forward onto Sirius’ chest as Sirius fingered him. He stroked Sirius slowly, dazed by the contrast between his own pale fingers and the darker, flushed skin of him. He wished he could see Sirius’ hand.

“There,” Remus gasped suddenly. “Ah—”

Sirius pressed him in gentle, slow strokes. It was different, being touched there and not his cock. Remus pushed into the feeling, his cock trapped and still between them. It wasn’t enough to do much except let Sirius’ fingers build a painfully slow pressure inside him. His eyes were lidded as he stroked Sirius’ cock until it was rock hard in his palm. He threw a leg over Sirius’ thighs so that Sirius could push into him deeper, finger curving against his prostate.

Remus just moaned.

“I’m gonna come soon, mon loup,” Sirius panted, hips straining up once, twice. “Loops—”

Remus sped up his hand, swiping his thumb over the swollen head, and then Sirius’ hips jerked. Come dripped lazily over Remus’ fingers, more and more of it, in thick white pulses. Remus’ dick throbbed at the sight, at Sirius’ fingers, tense from his orgasm, pressing hard inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, gasping. His hand had stilled against the base of Sirius’ cock, and he could feel him pulsing there, cock throbbing through his orgasm. Sirius’ head had fallen back against the mat, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath Remus’ chest. It was a mess on his hips and Remus’ fingers.

“Fuck. Oh—” Sirius moaned as Remus started stroking him again. His cock strained valiantly, but it was spent and softening. “C’mere, Loops, fuck.”

Sirius turned into Remus, fingers twisting inside of him. It gave him a better angle, and when he moved next, he doubled down.

Remus could only hold onto his shoulders, pliant against the mat.

“Can you come like this, sweetheart?” Sirius said gently. “Just on my fingers?”

Remus already felt like he was coming. There was sweat on his temples and chest, and he felt Sirius’ kiss the salt away. His cock was taught against his stomach, an angry red now. Sirius stroked inside of him evenly, but in quicker time. Remus didn’t even have time to catch one breath before the next was stolen.

“I’m coming—” Remus said, but he knew he wasn’t. Not yet. But he was sure he was. He groaned and Sirius kissed his exposed throat, his back arched up, pressing down on him.

“C’mon, baby,” Sirius said. “Fuck, look at you.”

“I’m coming,” Remus said again, voice breaking, and the calloused pad of Sirius’ finger pressed against him hard, and then he really was. It tore out of him forever, spilling against Sirius’ tan skin. Sirius cradled Remus against him, saying soft things in French until Remus could open his eyes again. Sirius took Remus’ dick gently in his hand, easing a last shiver of pleasure from him. Remus smiled a little deliriously and curled closer to his warmth.

“Bath?” Sirius whispered.

“We gotta clean this,” Remus laughed. “Fuck, I feel like my brain is gone.”

“I’ll clean,” Sirius said, and tilted Remus’ head up for a kiss. “Go get the hot water going.”

That sounded fine to Remus.

~

Lily opened the door to Pascal’s house with Harry cradled in her arms.

“Sirius fucking Black I swear to god you triggered my labor.”

“You say that to me every time you see me.”

She stepped aside. “And will continue to do so.”

Remus stepped through the door first and took Harry from her, holding him close so that Sirius could press a kiss to one of his chubby cheeks. He wasn’t heavy, but Sirius wasn’t suppose to lift very much. Harry smiled at him and Remus watched as Sirius smiled back, murmuring in French.

“Where’s Regulus?” Lily asked.

Sirius shrugged, still making faces at Harry.

“Out with Leo,” Finn’s voice suddenly said. He was sitting on the couch with Logan tucked up against his side. “Yeah, uh-huh, Leo’s replacing us with your brother.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “That’s not true.”

Finn raised his eyebrows, as if to say he wasn’t so sure about that. Logan nudged his jaw with his nose until he pressed a light kiss to his lips. Remus smiled.

He could see the long road that was behind them and the long road ahead at the same time. It was better that way.

Most of the team was there. The living room had a huge banner that read Congratulations Logan! and beneath it a smaller one: for finally moving out of my basement! 

Sirius laughed hard. “I didn’t get one of these!”

Pascal shook his head from where he was playing cards with Sergei. “I knew you would leave eventually. This one, I wasn’t so sure.”

“Hey,” Logan groaned.

Remus laughed and snapped a picture of Sirius in front of it.

“Can I have that for my instagram?” James asked.

“Baby, too much instagram, okay, I love you so much, but…” Lily winced.

“But I have a baby now,” James stood to Remus’ other side, and then Remus had two fully grown hockey players making baby talk surrounding him. “That’s what instagram’s for. Isn’t it, my little lion?”

Harry laughed delightedly at his father.

Kasey and Natalie were sitting on the couch beside Logan and Finn. Natalie had Kasey sitting between her legs on the floor, fingers running through his hair as she talked to them. Kasey seemed to be talking very seriously about something with Katie, who seemed to be wearing three princess dresses at the same time. She was sitting in his lap and he was nodding along, responding whenever she waited for him to.

Remus handed Harry back to Lily when they went into the kitchen to get drinks. Celeste was in the kitchen with Anya, and Thomas seemed to be helping, too, along with Noelle.

When Sirius said he was surprised to see her, she waved him off, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m the resident Tremblay sister representative. We were all pretty worried about Lolo for a minute there, but…” she smiled. “If only we knew. Not one boy, but two. Plus,” she looked over at Thomas, who was focusing intently on what Celeste was saying and stirring on the stove. “I have my own reasons.”

“Talkie’s a good one,” Remus said. “You lucked out there.”

“Right?” Noelle laughed, then nodded at Sirius. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Remus and Sirius said at the same time.

Noelle laughed again, and then her expression became more mild. “And…” she looked towards the living room, where they could distinctly hear Logan’s laugh. “I know none of this was easy for you two, but I’m happy you were there for my brother. Maybe not in the way you wanted to be…in the way any of us wanted…but you showed him it was okay to be who he is. I think Finn would have gotten to him eventually but I think it would have taken a lot longer. I’m glad he’s happy now. And that’s largely thanks to you two.”

“The delicious smells of success,” Thomas suddenly sang out, slightly off-key. “Breathe in the delicious smells of success, hey, Christmas, come over here and look at this goodness.”

Noelle laughed. “Oh, I’m already looking at it.” She sent Remus and Sirius a last smile. “Anyway, I said my piece.”

Remus laughed as she returned to Thomas’ side, tucking herself against him.

“That was sweet,” he said and rubbed his hand gently over Sirius’ chest, sort of out of habit by now. He could feel the bandages there.

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple. “Yeah.”

“Sirius, mon cher,” Celeste kissed Sirius’ cheek when she came over from the stove. “You are okay? Of course you are, Remus is with you. No more big empty house and take out meals, oui?”

Sirius laughed. “Way to sell me out.”

Remus snorted. “Like everyone didn’t already know.”

Celeste laughed. “C’est vrai.” She sighed, patting Sirius’ chest, near his ribs. “I am still so angry about Grayback, honestly.”

“Aren’t we all,” Pascal said, coming over. Celeste wrapped an arm around him.

“You and me both,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his wine. “But it’s over. I have to let it be over or else I’ll go insane.”

“You’ll be back out there soon,” Pascal said.

Sirius smiled. “Only thanks to Loops.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s you who does the hard part.”

Pascal laughed. “As if getting this boy to do what he’s told isn’t the hard part.”

Remus laughed. “Hm, true.”

“Celeste, the goodness looks ready to me,” Thomas called over from the stove.

Celeste laughed and leaned back towards the doorway to the living room.

“Dinner, everyone!” she called.

It only took a few moments for the kitchen to become crowded with people lining up with their plates.

“Hey,” Evgeni bee-lined between them for the wine bottle, but stopped on the way to give Remus a kiss on both cheeks. “Get Captain laid, no more grumpy.”

“Kuny,” Remus said.

Nado, behind him as always, cracked up. Sirius laughed, too.

“Merde, Kuns,” he said. “Subtle.”

“Very,” Regulus’ wry voice suddenly said from behind them as he and Leo entered the kitchen.

“Just in time!” Celeste said, handing them both plates. “Where have you boys been?”

Leo shrugged. “Just—hi, sweetheart,” he cut off as Finn wrapped his arms around his waist. “Just touring around Gryf. Got lunch.”

“Yeah, Sid’s is the best,” Regulus said.

Sirius spluttered mid way through serving himself dinner. “I told you that.”

“So?”

“So, you believe Leo and not me?”

Leo grinned. Regulus shrugged.

Remus spent most of dinner holding baby Harry and watching Sirius tickle his tummy while he laughed. James looked ready to cry at the sight. Lily took him back to be fed when they moved to sit around the living room with dessert, but Remus didn’t mind. He just leaned back into Sirius’ chest, happy with his team around him.

Logan looked red in the face from all the jokes implying why he was so eager to move in with Leo and Finn. Adele had stuck close to him all evening, sitting on his free side. Logan had his arm around her. Remus had overheard him assuring her that he’d be over to visit all the time, which he thought was unbearably sweet. Leo looked resigned and amused to the teasing, and Finn just looked thoroughly pleased, sitting between them with an arm around each.

Remus felt a kiss being placed on his neck.

“Maybe we could celebrate more than one move tonight,” Sirius said into Remus’ ear.

Remus held Sirius’ arms across his chest, turning to look at him. “What?”

Sirius just smiled and pulled Remus out of the living room and into the butler’s pantry of the kitchen. He took Remus’ hands in his warm ones. “You should move in with me.”

Remus took a slow breath in.

Sirius slid his hands up Remus’ forearms. “I want you to move in with me.”

“Baby…”

“Besides,” Sirius smiled. “Your mom will be coming to town soon with any luck,” Sirius knocked gently on the wooden cupboard behind Remus’ head with a smile. “Better not to disappoint her.”

Remus laughed, reaching up to press his hands to Sirius’ cheeks. “Better not.”

Sirius leaned down to nudge their noses together. “Live with me. You sort of already do, and I…I love it so much. I love having you near.”

Remus nodded. “Yes.” He kissed him once, and again, and again. “Yeah, I want to.”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss, and that was how Logan found them.

“Alors,” he said, hands up. “Sorry. Just got sent in for some more wine. God knows I need it.”

Remus flushed and laughed as Logan reached down for a bottle from the wine fridge.

“Carry on.”

“Oops,” Sirius snorted when they were alone again.

“I’ll have to get a car,” Remus mused as Sirius hugged him against his chest. Sirius lived just outside the city center. “No more subways and city walking from out here.”

“I’ll buy you whatever car you want.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sirius squeezed him closer. “It’s what I said. I want to. What else do you want? Tell me.”

Remus smiled and tilted his chin up to look at him. “You.”

~

It had been hard, saying goodbye to Sirius for the short road trip to Vegas. It was strange going without him.

“Force him to keep doing his exercises,” Remus had told Regulus firmly.

“Will do,” Regulus saluted.

“Miss you already,” Sirius had said softly when he dropped Remus off at departures.

“Just a few days,” Remus kissed his across the seats, and then kissed his new star necklace. “They’ll win.”

“Shh,” Sirius laughed gently.

Remus just smiled. “You’ll see."

Remus was in the visitor’s PT room, making sure it was well-stocked. Just in case. Moody was already in there, leaning against the table and watching the pre-game. He greeted Remus with a nod, and Remus pulled out a box of supplies to sort through while listening.

“—first time the Lions will be on the ice with Fenrir Grayback who, as we all know, received a two game suspension after a hard hit on Lions Captain Sirius Black, breaking four of his ribs. We know that the Lions organization was especially not happy about the lack of severity shown by the League. I suppose we may see what the players have to say about this tonight. I expect the Lions will push especially hard for a win in honor of their wounded Captain—not to mention that winning this game would secure them a spot in this year’s Stanley Cup play-offs. Marc-André Fleury is back with his rainbow stick tape, his second time showing support for Black. It’s nice to see. Let’s take a look at who else we’re watching tonight. First, we’ll talk about Logan Tremblay…”

“One game,” Moody grumbled. “One game.”

“One game,” Remus repeated. “Sirius really wanted to be out there tonight.”

“I don’t think Grayback knows what’s coming for him now that he isn’t,” Moody laughed gruffly. “You saw those boys when he took Sirius out. They’re fresh out of a day-off now. Rested, furious, determined.” Moody tilted his head. “I feel good things in my leg.”

Remus laughed. “Well, thank God.”

Sirius was sitting with his brother on the large, leather couch in his TV den, anxious and waiting for the second period to resume. The commercials were muted and he was waiting for Regulus to work his way up towards saying whatever it was that he was holding back. Sirius could tell there was something.

“Your house is ridiculous,” Regulus said around his Chinese takeout—not for the first time.

“I was young,” Sirius said defensively. “I thought buying a house like this was, like, required.”

“Stupide,” Regulus snorted.

“—a nasty hit on Finn O’Hara by Ryan Reaves, but he seems okay,” the commentator said, replaying the hit, and Sirius tensed. He didn’t need a replay of that. They cut back to commercials again.

“Do you think they can actually force me to go back?” Regulus said suddenly.

When Sirius looked over he was poking mildly at his noodles.

“I won’t let them do that.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re Sirius Black, not God.”

“I won’t let them do that,” Sirius said again. “Tu comprends? I will not. And Minnie won’t either.”

“Maman says—”

Sirius sat up. “You’ve been talking to her?”

“I have to sometimes,” Regulus grumbled. “Legal stuff. Minnie’s always there.”

“It doesn’t matter what she says. She is—”

“Yes, I know what she is,” Regulus snapped. “I’ve been living with her—until a few months ago, in case you forgot.” He glowered around the room. “While you were in your big fancy house…”

Sirius blinked. “Reg…”

“I’m not—mad at you. I was, but I’m not. I mean, I’m doing what you did, aren’t I? Making a better life, damn the consequences?” Regulus sighed. “There are other Snakes who want out, you know.”

Sirius sat up. “Like…witnesses? Reg, you could compile a case.”

“They’re worried they’ll never get back into the League,” Regulus said. “I’m trying, but…I don’t know, Sirius.”

Sirius’ heart ached. He looked down at his chicken and rice. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”

Regulus looked at him, gray on gray, and nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the TV. “We’re back.”

Sirius secretly liked that. Looking at the Lions play with his brother, and hearing him say we.

“O’Hara didn’t need any help getting up, even if he looked a little rattled. Now, speaking from experience, I don’t know about you, Lee, but I was waiting for O’Hara’s line mate, Logan Tremblay to have something to say about it…Tremblay did not challenge Reaves, though.”

They were lining up for puck drop, James at the center against—

Grayback.

“You know, Dean, I think that’s a testament to these young Lions, really all the Lions. They call them the cubs, you know. You can tell how much they want this. They band together, they listen, they work…I think it’s pretty rare to see such fine communication in an entire team.”

Grayback won the face off.

“Fuck,” Regulus breathed.

Sirius wished he was there, standing beside Remus, on the bench, jumping the boards—anything. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, eating take-out. Helpless.

The entire first period, and the majority of this one had been back and forth. The score was still 0-0. They were fighting. Hard. Fenrir passed it to Tuch, who knocked it over to Engelland. Engelland took a hard shot, and Leo caught it in his glove.

“Another amazing save by Knut,” Dean said. “Rookie goal tender Leo Knut has blocked 29 shots in this game so far, most of them with his glove. I love seeing that sort of technique from the younger players, you know?”

“Absolutely Dean. And it looks to me like Coach Weasley is giving the Blizzard, Kasey Winter, a nice long rest as he looks ahead to hopefully a long and successful playoff run.”

Sirius leaned forward as play started up again. Evgeni barreled against Reaves and Fenrir, evading a two-on-one with a slick pass to Nado. It was hard hockey—it looked a little like play-off hockey. Brutal, hard-hitting, and determined.

It stayed like that until half way through the third.

“Fucking hell,” Regulus said. “How does this game still have no score?”

Sirius shook his head. His heart was in his throat. He had texted Remus at the second intermission.

Boys are fired as hell, Remus had said. Good feelings. They don’t even seem tired.

Harzy okay? he had said.

Yes. Then, a minute later. Boasting that you’re checking on him XD

That reassurance was the only thing keeping Sirius sane.

“We have to break their defense,” Sirius was half watching the battle on the ice and half running through plays in his mind. The clock read twelve minutes.

Sirius could have laughed. He pressed his necklace pendant between his palms, his steepled fingers against his mouth. He wasn’t religious. He just wanted this. For all of them.

Pascal’s line was out.

“Come on Dumo,” Sirius said.

Sirius watched Pascal and Fenrir line up for the face off with tense shoulders. He waited, and waited, and then the referee was straightening again, looking at Pascal and pointing away.

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. “He’s kicking Dumo out of the circle.”

“I wonder what he said.”

Sirius silently begged Pascal to be careful.

Brady took Pascal’s place. He won the face off, and Sirius and Regulus shouted.

He passed it easily to Pascal, who dragged it along the boards.

“What’s he going so slow for?” Regulus demanded, fist hitting the couch.

Sirius only saw what was coming next because of the TV angle.

Pascal had his head down, and Fenrir was skating hard towards him on the ice.

Sirius and Regulus were on their feet in a second, shouting at the television. They couldn’t warn him.

Sirius couldn’t even breathe properly. It seemed to go on in slow motion, all of it. Pascal, his—his father, really, his protector. The man who had taken him right from under his mother’s grasp. Pascal who knew him better than anyone. Maybe even Remus.

Fenrir was obviously going in for the hit. He was probably confident that he could get away with it again. Just like he had with Remus. With Sirius. If he so much as touched Dumo—

But he underestimated Pascal Dumais just like had last time.

Pascal, puck on his stick, let Fenrir get closer, and closer, and then deked right. He spun on his right blade harshly and kicked off the boards like a goalie did on a goal post. The effect was that he went rocketing out of the way, right towards the Golden Knights’ goal, and Fenrir slammed into the boards with his own full-force.

The game didn’t pause for him. It only stopped when the goal lit up red as Pascal shot a clean line into the top left corner of the net.

Six minutes and three seconds remaining. 1-0, Lions. The Lions bench was on their feet, sticks banging against the boards as Pascal skated down for glove taps. The TV showed his familiar face, smiling. He looked into the camera for a moment, and Sirius swore Pascal was looking right at him.

He won’t get you again, the look said. Pascal tussled Remus’ hair with his glove. Or any of us.

Six minutes felt like six hours, longer and longer with each one of Leo’s saves. They showed his face during an offside whistle. He tilted his helmet up for some water. His blonde hair was darkened and drenched with sweat, but his blue eyes were fierce. He tapped his mask back down, and went back into a crouch. Sirius had never been so proud of Leo fucking Knut.

Shots were traded ferociously, the puck practically bouncing between the zones. Leo saved it with his blocker, a few bouncing off of his helmet, some dangerously close to his neck guard. He pushed off one post and dropped into a full split, the puck sliding snugly against his pad until he scooped it up like a hawk.

“Fucking hell, Leo,” Regulus mumbled.

“Right,” Sirius said. “Merde.”

Three minutes. James had four shots that very nearly went in. Logan had five close-calls. They were panting on the bench, squirting cold water down their necks, but they were keeping the score. They were protecting their lead.

Two minutes.

The Golden Knights pulled their goalie, the net was empty, and still no one scored again.

When the buzzer finally sounded, Sirius was breathing like he was on the ice, too.

The bench exploded, spilling out onto the ice. Finn threw his gloves into the air right before Logan crashed into him.

They had won the game with one goal, and three periods of sheer will-power.

Sirius hugged Regulus hard. He watched as his boys jumped on each other against the boards, knocking Leo’s helmet for his shut-out and grinning. They were clinched.

They were going to the playoffs.